


Finding Their Place

by MissieMoose



Category: TOLKIEN J. R. R. - Works, The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Action/Adventure, F/M, Gen, Humor, M/M, Original Character(s), Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-22
Updated: 2015-12-27
Packaged: 2017-12-12 15:09:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 37
Words: 308,302
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/812945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissieMoose/pseuds/MissieMoose
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Five years after the reclaiming of Erebor, some members of the Company are finding it difficult to adjust to their new lives in the great dwarven city. With their new-found wealth and status as heroes amongst dwarvenkind, life should be easy -and it is, but to Bifur, Bofur, and Ori, the neighboring city of Dale looks to be so much more fun. Little do they know, but Dale has a lot more in store for them than what they thought.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter One

Chapter One

It was pouring down rain when the five dwarves entered Dale and, while it was not yet quite evening, the sky was dark. It was still early in the year –at least by the reckoning of men- and the days were short, leaving the cobblestone streets somewhat difficult to navigate. Normally, dwarves managed fairly well in the dark, but when two of them were riding atop ponies while the other three followed behind with the pony-driven cart, things got a little hazardous –especially when a stray chicken, dog, or child darted into their path.

One of the dwarves looked over his shoulder at his companions, water dripping from the corners of his hat. "Well, I'm glad the city is gettin' along so well!"

"Five years and they've almost got all the buildings repaired, I see," said the eldest of the group. "Of course, they've had help from us dwarrows to speed things along." He sat up a little straighter in the seat of the cart, narrowing his eyes as he tugged on the reins. The ponies began to turn left.

The first dwarf (whose name was Bofur) slowed his pony down, waiting for the cart to catch up to them. "Are you sure we're goin' the right way, Dori? I haven't seen many taverns or inns in this direction."

"Aye, I'm sure, laddie," Dori told him. "Ori was sure to take down detailed directions the last time we were here. Weren't you, Ori?" He looked back at his youngest brother, able to see his eyes and nose poking out from beneath the oilskin tarp covering their belongings.

"I was!" he piped up, trying to lift his head, though the tarp prevented much movement. "At the next fork, you take a right and it should be at the end of the street."

Dori nodded his thanks to him. "See? He's got it all written down in that book of his. It comes in use sometimes."

Dori and Ori's middle brother, Nori, looked back at them from his pony. "It comes in use more often than you give it credit for," he mused. "Just because Ori's a bit more of a scholar than the rest of us don't mean he's not helpful. Right you said, Ori?" They had already reached the parting of streets.

"Aye, right," Ori called. There was the sound of some shuffling coming from beneath the tarp. "Bifur! Your foot's in my gut!"

After more shuffling, a fifth voice spoke up, though he spoke in a language that was unfamiliar to non-dwarven folk. The dwarves shook their heads and laughed at his words, Bofur rolling his eyes slightly.

"If you didn't want to be crammed in there with Ori and the chests, then you shouldn't have complained about the weather," Bofur grinned. "You're the tallest amongst us; of course it's a tight fit!"

More Khuzdul came from beneath the tarp, earning another laugh from his companions. Rounding the corner, they were met by the sight of a short, but wide street. At the very end of it, a tall, three-story building stood, many of its lower windows glowing brightly with a warm, welcome light. As they approached, they were able to catch snippets of fiddles and flutes coming from inside.

Nori squinted through the dim light at the wooden sign hanging above the door. "The Full Tankard," he read aloud.

"Aye. Balin an' Dwalin said that its name is quite fitting," Dori told him. "Your tankard's never empty if'n you don't want it to be an' the food is good. They didn't stay the night, though, so I don't know how their rooms are, but they should be good enough."

"A full tankard is all I could ask for," Bofur grinned. He brushed some wet hair from his face as the five dwarves and their ponies came to a halt just a few yards away from the building. "Who's goin' to take the horses 'round back?"

"I will," Dori said, sliding down from the cart. He tugged back a corner of the tarp, watching as his youngest brother nimbly hopped out. Not so nimbly came the owner of the Khuzdul-only voice, Bifur, who had some difficulties detaching the bit of orc-axe in his head from some stray fibers of the tarp. After some fussing about, Dori pulled a small knife from his belt and trimmed the strings away, cursing under his breath. When Bifur finally clamored out of the cart, he shook his head and patted him on the back. "Nori, will you arrange for the rooms? One would be best, but two if all else fails."

"Will do."

As Dori led the ponies off around the side of the building, under a tall archway, the rest followed Nori under a covered walkway. Before going into the inn, Nori and Bofur spent a few minutes wringing their clothes, hair, and beards out as best as possible. After all, they did not want to leave puddles where they were about to sit. Once they were somewhat dryer, Nori led them onwards.

Pushing open the door, the four dwarves were greeted by warm air that smelled like mulled wine and fresh bread. There was a murmur of talk and music that filled the common room and the dwarves could see an assortment of humans sitting at various tables. They also noted that, from the looks of things, they were the only dwarves in the building.

Nori led them over to the bar, where a tall man was cleaning a mug with a clean, white rag. As he smiled down at them, they could see that he had not a single hair on his battle-scarred head, and yet, from the nose down, his face was hidden beneath an ashen beard that any dwarf would have been proud of.

"Good evening, master dwarves!" he said, his voice hearty and friendly despite his somewhat-intimidating appearance. "What can I get for you this evening? Perhaps some nice, mulled wine to warm your bones?"

Bifur, Bofur, and Ori grinned at his words, but it was Nori who spoke. "Some food and drink would be lovely," he said, "but we're also needing a room or two. There's five of us; my brother is out with the horses."

The man nodded and heaved up a large book. "An' how long will you be stayin' with us, Master…?"

"Nori. And a week, if that's possible, sir."

As the two of them worked out things, the other three looked around curiously. It had been a long while since they had been in any sort of human establishment –let alone one in Dale. Merriment seemed to be in good quantity as did the food, for as they stood there, two women came hurrying out of the kitchen. The older of the two, a blonde woman, balanced a single tray of stew and ale atop her hand while the younger, a brunet who shared some resemblance to the bald man, balanced two trays that were full to the brim with food and drink.

"Baylee!" The three jumped, looking at the man as his voice boomed across the room. "When you're done there, lass, come show these lads to a table!" He looked back down at the dwarves, the smile still on his lips. "I'll have Wenna ready your rooms," he told them, "and she'll show you to them when she's done. For now, my daughter will be takin' care of you."

As if on cue, the brunet woman appeared, looking slightly out of breath, but wore a smile. "Evenin' lads!" she smiled, though it faltered as she saw how wet they still were. "Alright, you lot are getting' a nice toasty place by the fire," she chuckled. "This way!"

She led them over to a low, round table that was lined on either side with chairs and stools. It stood somewhat near to the enormous fireplace, allowing for its heat to warm them up, but not roast them. The dwarves shrugged off their jackets and hats, hanging them on the back of their chair or letting them sit on the hearth to dry.

"So, what'll it be for you lads tonight?" Baylee asked.

"What sorts of food do you have, miss?" Ori asked, tossing one of his braids over his shoulder.

"Well, tonight, we've some hearty potato 'n ham stew," she began, "an' there's quite a bit o' chicken soup left. We've also got breads, fruit pies, fried fish, sausages, baked vegetables, cheese…" Her eyes squinted slightly as she tried to remember if there was anything else that she hadn't listed and decided there wasn't. "As for drinks, we've ale, wine, mulled wine, beer, and cider."

"Well, I don't know 'bout my companions, but I'll take a nice mug o' beer," Bofur said, grinning, "and a bowl of that stew with some bread and sausages."

"I'll have some mulled wine with soup, bread, cheese, and vegetables," Ori chirped.  
"Ale, fish, an' stew for me," said Nori, "and my brother will have cider, stew, and a fruit pie when he gets in."

"Mâ izhûl kheluz gorog, humund, dagh, rakhùs drâgzu, nagöm böraz," Bifur said last. Baylee stared at him for a moment; she, like most beings on Middle Earth, was unable to speak Khuzdul.

"Er…Alright…an' that means what, lads?" she asked with a small, awkward chuckle.

Bofur smiled apologetically at her and opened his mouth to speak, but Ori spoke up first. "It means he'll have some beer, the bread, fish, a plate of sausages, and a pie, if you please, miss," he translated.

She nodded in understanding, committing their orders to memory. "Thank you," she smiled. "I'll have your drinks in just a moment."

The dwarves watched as she walked off, disappearing into the crowd of people. Bofur gave his cousin a small pat on the shoulder.

"We'll get you speaking common again someday," he told him. "For now…just don't wander off on your own, alright?"

"Mâ katû ," Bifur said, nodding affirmatively.

It was then that Dori returned to the group. Like the others, he had wrung his clothes outside before coming in, but he was still left rather wet. Ori got up from his spot, letting his brother sit nearer to the fire while he took a seat between Nori and Bifur. As Dori got situated, he pulled a short pipe from his belt and sighed, leaning back in his short chair.

"I take it I didn't miss much then?" he asked, also pulling a pouch from his belt.

Nori shook his head. "We've two rooms. You, me, 'n Ori will get our own room while Bifur an' Bofur get the other. I also took the liberty of orderin' your meal for you."

"Ah, good. What am I havin' then?" he asked, fixing the pipe between his teeth as he started his attempts to light it.

Nori rested an elbow on the table as he moved to pull out his own pipe. "Cider, stew, and a pie. How much leaf have you left?"

"Enough." As he tossed his pouch to his brother, Baylee returned, carrying just one tray now; it was filled with an assortment of drinking vessels. Two foaming, wooden mugs of beer she placed in front of Bifur and Bofur; a clay mug of ale was placed in front of Nori; Ori got a smaller, but wider, mug of mulled wine.

"An' you must be the cider drinker," she mused, setting a warm, wooden mug in front of Dori. "Next time ya lads see me, I'll have your food for ya," she smiled before once again leaving them be.

Dori tilted his head back, letting a circle of smoke leave his mouth. He watched as it rose into the air before dispersing into the air. "Certainly the most friendly humans I've come across," he said. "And good service."

"The drink's even better!" Bofur grinned, his upper lip covered in beer foam. "The folk of Dale were always quite good at brewin' beer an' ale."

"Laddie, you've forgotten that these folk are newcomers to Dale," Nori told him.

"But their ancestors originally lived in Dale," Ori added. "So, it wouldn't surprise me that they still make good alcohols." He took a drink of his mulled wine, a noise of pleasant surprise leaving his throat. "This isn't human-brewed wine!" he said, his eyes wide.

The other dwarves raised their eyebrows, skeptical of his claim. "Zûr mâ katû?" asked Bifur.

"I tasted this same stuff in the barrels when we was in the elf palace!" He took another drink of his wine. "Of course, it's got some different flavors, since it's warmed and has spices in it, but I know the stuff. It was some of the best wine I've had."

"And you've had how much wine in your life, laddie?" Nori mused. "Not much."

"That's why I remember it so well," Ori said, a small pout coming to his lips.

Bifur let out a small laugh. "Girij gi azbadme nazurk," he told the others, his hand moving to scratch his chin.

"A woman's drink it may be," Dori grinned, smoke furling from his mouth and nostrils, "but why do you think they're such fierce warriors? Their heads are clearer than ours!"

The others laughed and Nori patted Ori on the back. "It's no wonder that he's the smartest of us then," he mused. He grinned, watching as his youngest brother turned bright red and glanced down at his lap shyly.

"Nothin' wrong with bein' smart, lad," Bofur told him reassuringly. He raised a finger, pointing at him with a smile. "Havin' brains can be more useful than havin' muscles. Though, havin' both isn't too bad, either. Why, Thorin -may he forge with the ancients- had both o' them! When he was alive, he was smarter 'n a fox an' strong as an ox." He took a drink from his beer, a chorus of 'ayes' coming from the other dwarves.

"Good leader, he was. Aulë bless his soul," Dori sighed. In unison, the dwarves took a drink in memory of their fallen leader.

Setting his mug down, Dori looked up in time to see Baylee and the blonde-haired woman coming towards the table. Each carried two large trays of food.

Baylee pointed at Bifur and Bofur. "Sausages go there an' there," she told the blonde as they each set down a tray so that they could use their hands. She put a small plate of cheese in front of Ori as well as a plate of roasted vegetables. "Pies t' those two, bread t' those three," she continued, setting bowls of stew in front of Bofur and Dori; a bowl of soup went before Ori. The blonde walked off as she set a roasted fish in front of both Bifur and Nori. "There ya go lads," she smiled. "Anyone need refills on their drinks?" She was not very surprised when they all lifted their mugs. She lightly rolled her eyes, but took them with a smile.

It had been awhile since a non-human being had visited their inn. Back in Laketown, the Elves would visit occasionally, if only to deliver the three (larger than normal) barrels of wine her father would buy. Since coming to Dale, however, the non-human races were far and few between visits. It was a bit curious to her, since the inn still bore its name from Laketown.

'Maybe it's because we weren't able to buy one of the bigger inn buildings?' she thought, holding the two beer mugs and filling them up. 'And we're a bit out of the way now…But, maybe if these dwarves like it enough here, we'll be getting more dwarvish patrons…They're a fun lot.' The third mug she filled up with ale before heading towards the kitchen's hearth.

"How're you handling it out there, 'Lee?" asked Galiene, the eldest person on the inn's staff. She was one of the three cooks (the other two being Baylee and her father) and, despite her age, she was able to keep up with the busiest of nights.

"It's going well. A group o' folk just left, so there's not as much commotion out there," she replied, picking up a ladle. "Our largest group is still here, though; they're havin' games o' dice." She filled up Ori's mulled wine.

"An' of the dwarves, dear?"

"They're pleasant," she answered, filling up Dori's cider. "When they came in, the poor lads were soakin' wet, so I sat 'em by the fire to warm up and dry out."

"That's a lass," Galiene smiled, throwing some herbs into a pot.

Plucking up her tray once more, Baylee pushed open the swinging kitchen door and headed out into the common room. Some more people had left while she was refilling the drinks, leaving the room a bit quieter and without music. It was a bit nice; the musicians had been there since noon and had played most of their songs three times each by the time evening fell.

Coming up on the dwarven table again, she saw that they were already heartily eating away at their meals. "So, lads, you mind if I ask why brings ya to Dale?" she asked, circling around the table and setting their drinks down.

"We're here t' do a wee bit of trading and location scouting," Dori answered, wiping some stew from his beard.

"We thought it would be best to get here before all the other dwarves show up," Ori told her, "to make the best connections first and so Bifur and Bofur here can find a little place to set up their toy shop."

"A toy shop?" she repeated. "Don't think Dale has one o' those yet, though I'm sure it'll be popular with the children. Oh, pardon me." She walked off as another patron waved her over. "What can I get ya, William?"

The older man looked up at her and held up his soup bowl. "Can I get more o' Galiene's soup?"

"Are you sure?" she laughed. "You've had two bowls already!"

He grinned cheekily, his eyes barely visible through his wrinkles. "Ah, but lass, it's so good, I can't help but keep eatin' it!" he chortled. "Just one more bowl? It'll be the las' one, lass, I promise."

She took the bowl from him, giving him a playfully skeptical look. "I don't know, Will. Where are ya storin' it all? You're as skinny as a twig!"

"He stores it in all of those wrinkles on his face," another older man laughed. "That's why he has so many –he just stores all o' his food in them."

Baylee snorted. "He's not like a squirrel, Abbot!" She lightly shook her head, still grinning. "Anythin' I can get ya when I head back?"

He leaned back in his chair, letting his goblet of wine rest atop his large belly as if it were a table. "You bake any o' those fruit breads o' yours today?"

"'Fraid not. We're waitin' for a shipment o' dried fruits. Should be here any day now."  
He nodded slowly, a slight frown coming to his lips. "Hm. Alright. Then bring me one o' the pies."

"Comin' right up." Taking the bowl, she walked back into the kitchen. "William needs another bowl o' soup."

Galiene looked up as she stirred the contents of a small, metal pot. "Where does the man put it all?" she gaped, taking the bowl as Baylee handed it to her. "The man's so skinny, I know it can't be goin' into his belly!"

"No idea, but Abbot supposes he hides it all in his wrinkles."

"The man's not a squirrel an' that's a gross thing t' say." She shook her head, setting the bowl onto the table behind her. "Hidin' food in his wrinkles…Bah. Next Abbot'll say that he stores all his wine in that fat gut o' his."

Baylee gave her a bit of a scolding look from over her shoulder. "Now, now, Galiene. These men are our best customers. Just because they're a wee bit off kilter don't mean they're not sweet." She was on her tiptoes as she reached for the last of the apple pies.

"I know, I know," she sighed, wiping her hands on her apron, "I'm just not feelin' as happy as I should today. We were supposed t' get that shipment o' berries an' flour from the south today, but there hasn't been hide nor hair o' it! An' with this sort of weather brewin', it may all be ruined." She glanced up as she felt Baylee pat her on the shoulder.  
"It'll come, an' it'll be just fine," she reassured the older woman. "Now, where've Wenna an' Aunt Demelza gotten off to?"

She shrugged. "Heavens if I know, girl. Demelza was in here a bit ago servin' the townsfolk out there and then she took off. Wenna's probably up preparing a room or trying to flirt with Peter again."

"Oh, I think we both know if Peter was flirtin' instead o' workin' while Gawen or Uncle were out there, that boy would be gettin' lashes," she said. "An' Wenna would never hear the end of it from you."

"That's because she don't know better –yet." Galiene grinned and reached up, ruffling Baylee's hair. "At least you don't go runnin' off into trouble."

Her brow rose. "Anymore! After papa hired you, I learned better 'n to run away." She shuddered slightly. "I think I still have a handprint on me bum from that last spankin' ya gave me." Grinning, she plucked up the bowl of soup. "Hopefully it'll be awhile before I'm back in here."

"Not too long!" Galiene called after her. "I almost got our dinner done!"

As Baylee left the kitchen, Wenna returned from upstairs. Some strands of her black hair had fallen out of the tight bun she kept it in. "Readyin' rooms, were you?" asked Baylee.

"Aye. Had t' get two of them cleaned up for them dwarves." She sighed, lifting her apron and wiping some soot from her face. "Should be nice an' warm when they get up there." A tired smile came to her lips.

Nodding in understanding, Baylee gave her a small smile. "Don't worry. Most o' the crowd's gone now; we can rest a wee bit."

"You can. I still have t' show 'em to their rooms!" Wenna laughed. She walked past Baylee and towards the table of dwarves. As she drew nearer, she was rather surprised by the amount of dishes that had piled onto the small table. "I'm sorry t' interrupt, masters, but I'm goin' to have t' steal two of you to show you where your rooms are." She gave them a friendly smile, though her weariness was apparent.

Dori and Bofur nodded at the others before pushing themselves back from the table. "Don't any o' you eat my sausages while I'm gone, lads," Bofur said, pointing at the group accusingly before following Dori and Wenna towards the stairs.

Bifur, of course, stole one as soon as his cousin turned his back.

As they reached the top of a flight of stairs, Dori and Bofur followed Wenna down a hallway. Approaching one of the doors, Bofur was a little surprised to see two men –one a young lad around sixteen, the other a man around the same age as the bald man- leaving one of the rooms. The older man smiled at Dori and gave him a small nod.

"Your luggage has been brought up as promised, master dwarf," he told him. Some water dripped down his graying hair, landing on the collar of his shirt. "And your ponies are tucked away, eatin' their dinner.

Dori nodded in understanding, a pleased smile on his lips. "Thank you, Master Richard," he said, giving the man a small bow. "Your help is most appreciated."

The two men smiled before taking their leave, allowing Wenna to show them the rooms. "Here's the room for three o' you," she said, motioning to the door Richard had just left, "and this one," she motioned to one across the hall, "is for the other two. I've got fires goin' in both, so they should be toasty by the time ya want t' retire for the evenin'."

Bofur and Dori said their thanks in unison and they gave her a small bow as well before going in and inspecting the rooms. Dori's was slightly larger than Bofur's due to having three beds, but they both seemed comfortable. As he went into Dori's room, Bofur saw that the older dwarf was kneeling down in front of some chests, checking over their locks to see if someone had tried tampering with them. Finding that they were perfectly intact, he stood back up, wiping his hands on his tunic.

"This place seems good enough," Bofur said, looking around the room curiously. Its walls had recently been whitewashed. "The staff is certainly friendly."

"Aye. It'll do us for our purposes," Dori said with an agreeing nod.

"Food's good, too." He still looked around the room. "Sat on the bed, it's soft enough."

Dori raised his silver brow as he looked at the younger dwarf. He sighed quietly, turning towards him. "Lad, I've a question for you."

Bofur looked mildly surprised. "Hm? What's that?"

"Are you sure you want to go through with this?" he asked, his tone quieter and more serious now. "Opening a toy shop in a city of men?"

A confident smile came to his lips. "Of course I am! The human children back in the west loved our toys!"

"Aye, over the Misty Mountains they did," he said with a small nod, "but are you sure they'll take t' Bifur's toys?" Before the axe had been lodged in his skull, Bifur had been a gifted toymaker; after the axe, however, his toys had turned a more macabre root. Yet, for some reason, children still loved them. "The lot here may not want their children exposed t' such things."

Bofur set a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "That's why, when get a shop an' open it, I plan on introducin' Bifur's toys to the public slowly. Get them used t' a few of the things an' then move on. For the time being, he'll be helping me by sewing doll clothes or cuttin' wood t' size; even Bifur admits his toys are a bit…unusual for most tastes."

Dori looked him over for a long moment. He still wore a confident smile; he always been one of the more optimistic dwarves Dori had known. Considering all that had happened to him and his family throughout the years, he was surprised that Bofur had any happiness left in him.

After awhile, he let out a sigh and smiled at the younger dwarf, clapping him on the back. "You've got the ambition, that's for sure. And the skills. I'm sure the two o' you will find your fortunes here."

A silly grin came to Bofur's face. "We've already got our fortunes back in Erebor," he grinned. All that had remained of Thorin's company had received from King Dain a small, but profitable, fortune when peace had once more been settled in the valley. "This is just to give us somethin' t' do!"

"That it will. And maybe it'll get Bifur talkin' common again. We really shouldn't let him speak at all when around humans. It's not that I don't trust them," he added, seeing Bofur's brow raise. "Khuzdul has been kept amongst us dwarrows for a reason, lad. Aulë devised it for our tongues an' our tongues only. Very few are the numbers o' non-dwarrow people who speak it."

"Such as Lord Elrond for example," he offered, following the older dwarf as they left the room. Both doors they shut, Dori locking his with the key given to him by the bald man. "He and the Rivendell elves were nice enough, but they had funny food."

Dori started down the stairs. "Mhm."

"Not much meat…mostly salads. I've never been much of a salad fan. I guess elves just really enjoy salad."

"They do seem t' revere nature more 'n others."

"Curious, though. The elves in Mirkwood like their meat just as much as anyone else. Like their wine more, though."

"Alright, lad, that's enough about elves for one day," Dori mused. Even though five years had passed and peace had been made between the dwarf troupe and the elves of Mirkwood, Dori still retained a bit of a sore spot after being locked in Thranduil's dungeon and then sent rolling down a river in wine barrels by Bilbo the hobbit. "Let's just finish our meal, aye?"

"Aye, that sounds like a plan," Bofur grinned. As he sat down at the table, though, his smile vanished. His neat little plate of sausages –three, when he had left- had been reduced to half a single, lonely link. He looked up, half glaring, half pouting at his companions. "Who ate me sausage?!" he cried.

Nori, Ori, and Bifur all pointed at each other, their eyes wide. "Wasn't me!" one of them defended. "It was him!" "Was not, you buffoon! It was him that eat them!" "Khi u-zu!"

Bofur slowly turned his head and stared at his cousin. Bifur was doing his best to look just as innocent as Ori and Nori but was failing miserably. Bofur crossed his arms; he would be tapping his foot on the floor if he were taller.  
"You ate me sausage."

"Mabakhul, nadad-khâzash-" He winced slightly as Bofur hit him over the head with his spoon.

"Next time, don't wolf all your sausages down so fast," he scolded. "Or, if ya do, steal from someone else!"

Grumbling under his breath, Bifur took a long drink from his ale. While the other two had been away, Baylee had passed by and refilled their drinks for a second time.

"So, how were the rooms?" Ori asked, wiping his mouth and beard off. His stomach was delightfully filled, leaving just enough room for one last mug of wine. "Were they small or big?"

"Big enough to fill our needs," Dori said, relighting his pipe. "Clean with fires going and wash basins for us."

"And comfortable beds," Bofur added.

"I like comfortable beds," Ori smiled. "Mine's not too comfy yet. Maybe I can buy some goose feathers down here t' make it softer…"

Nori glanced at his brother. "Or trade for them. That way you don't get swindled by some of the cheaper chaps down here." He took a drink of his ale and leaned back in his chair, stretching his legs out under the table.

For awhile, there was silence amongst the five dwarves. Bofur and Ori were finishing up their meals while Dori and Nori smoked their pipes; Bifur busied himself with grabbing their things –now fully dry- and folding them up. The blonde woman came over after a spell and took their dirtied dishes back into the kitchen.

"I've an idea," Ori quietly said after a time. He glanced up as the others looked at him, half tired, half eager to hear what he had to say. "In the morning, if it's not too busy, why don't we ask that Baylee lass or her father about who're the most fair chaps t' be dealin' with?"

Dori thought this over, slowly twisting his pipe back and forth between his teeth –but not too far, lest he spill the ashes all over himself. "Good idea, Dori," he said after a moment. "I think we'll do that. After all, the folk who live here would know the fairest folk to do business with, right?"

"That they would," Nori agreed. "Sounds fine to me."

"An' the girl seems friendly enough," Bofur added. "I'm sure she'd be kind enough t' help us."

"Especially if it potentially means more business for this place in the future," Dori added. "Aye, then it's decided. One o' us will ask in the mornin'." As if to signal the end of the discussion, he leaned back in his chair and sent forth a great ring of smoke from his mouth. Through it, Nori sent a thin stream of smoke, like an arrow hitting a bull's eye, a grin on his lips as he watched his brother frown.

Next to him, Ori yawned deeply, his hand covering his mouth. "I don't know about you lads," he said, looking at his companions, "but I think I'm goin' to tuck in. We'll be havin' to get an early start tomorrow after all."

"You know, that's a good idea," said Bofur. Bifur agreed, his hair bouncing slightly as he nodded. Standing up, he drained his mug of any and all alcohol that may have remained, Ori copying his actions. "G'night, lads. Hope you sleep well tonight!" he smiled before leading Ori and Bifur to their rooms.


	2. Chapter Two

Chapter Two

It was the smell of bacon that woke him up.

Bofur had been fast asleep, having a pleasant dream of drinking hearty dwarven ale in his home back in Erebor. But, for the life of him, he was not able to figure out where the smell of cooking meats was coming from. He had gotten up from his stool and looked all over his home –in the kitchen, in the parlor, upstairs in his room, the bathroom even! And still, he could not find the source of that smell!

And then, his stomach rumbled quite loudly.

His eyes opened and he found himself facing an unfamiliar ceiling. He bolted upright, temporarily forgetting where he was until he looked around. Across from him, Bifur was fast asleep, half in the bed, half out. Remembering that he was in an inn, he let out a relieved sigh and let himself flop backwards again.

'That's right,' he thought to himself, 'we're at an inn.'

It was then that he realized the source of the smell was coming from somewhere close by. Sniffing the air, he rolled onto his side and leaned over the edge of the bed. The smell was getting stronger…

'Must be over the kitchen,' he thought with a small grin. Putting his hands on the floor below, he crawled out of the bed and pressed his ear to the floorboards, having to flick his braid out of the way. Through the wood, he was able to hear the faint sizzling of meat and muffled voices. One of them was that of a man, the other, a girl. 'Maybe the inn-owner and that Miss Baylee?' he thought, his brow rising.

"Kulhu-zu salab?"

He looked up, startled to find Bifur's face less than three inches from his. How he had not heard his cousin slip out of bed, he would never know. "Uh…just doin' some mornin' stretching is all," he lied. "Y'know, so I have more room in my belly for breakfast!"

Bifur's brow rose. "Mâ ashafukh tada…" he mused, standing upright.

Bofur stood up as well, brushing himself off. Not that there was any dirt on him to begin with; the floors were quite clean. "Of course you doubt me," he said. "You've never done it. You don't know how much more food I can take in because of these stretches I do." He started to pull on his tunic and trousers over his underclothes. "Now, how did you sleep?"

"Mâ sanuhurun gamut," he replied, also starting to get dressed. "Zu?"

"Slept rather decently myself," he replied, tying his trousers into place.

Bifur pulled his trousers on and yawned. "Bizarûn torv mudùmul mabar."

"That they do," he chuckled, sitting down and tugging on his boots. "I think Ori's right in wantin' t' buy one. After all, we don't have the softest straw or geese around in Erebor. Sleepin' on piles o' furs an' rocks gets rough after five years." He started to tie the laces of his tunic and yawned.

Bifur shrugged as he tugged his own tunic on over his head, wincing slightly as it got caught on his axe. "Mukhuh khi khund fulz sejêr arm ze ür nu?" he asked.

"Maybe. I'm sure if we showed enough raw gold t' anyone, we can easily trade." He pulled on his jacket before grabbing his hat and putting it onto his head. Glancing at Bifur, he found that the other dwarf was just tugging on his right boot before standing up. "Nult deraz," he grinned, watching Bifur brighten as he spoke in the ancient tongue.

Bofur led him out of their room and down the short hallway. The smell of food was stronger now; they was able to smell the warm, yeasty scent of bread baking and they could hear the sound of eggs sizzling away. When they came to the landing, both dwarves stood on their tiptoes as they peered over the railing at the common room below. Dori, Nori, and Ori were already awake and sitting at the same table as the night before. Only two humans were in the room, one of them being the blonde waitress. The other was the young lad from the stables.

"Well, looks like they haven't started without us," he chuckled. He nodded his head at the stairs and they hurried down them. If anyone had seen them coming down, they would have thought them children if it weren't for their beards (and the axe in Bifur's head, of course).

"There's the two sleepyheads," Nori said, looking up as Bifur and Bofur took their places at the table.

"We were starting to wonder if you two were ever goin' to wake up or if we were going to have to send Ori up there to wake you," Dori grinned. He took a drink from something in a small, clay cup –tea, Bofur supposed, since it was steaming- before leaning back in his seat. "I already ordered our meal," he told them. "Fried eggs, sausage, bacon, biscuits –the usual."

Starting to comb his fingers through his beard, Bifur gave him a small nod. "Dolzekh menu."

Bofur yawned again, leaning back a little bit on his stool. Admittedly, he could have slept another hour or so, but that was probably the beer from last night talking. Hearing the creak of unoiled hinges, he turned, seeing Baylee leaving the kitchen with two heaping trays of food in hand. As she walked towards them, he noticed that she didn't seem to have any problem carrying the platters, as heavy as they must have been.

"I see the other two masters are up now," she chuckled, using her foot to tug a stool over. She set one of the platters down on it before starting to deal out the dishes on the other. "Would either o' ya like some tea or cider with your breakfast?" She set a large plate of eggs, bacon, and toast in front of Dori while another plate of scrambled eggs, sausage, ham, and biscuits was set in front of Nori. Ori got himself a large bowl of porridge, a smaller bowl of honey, and a small pitcher of cream put in front of him along with a little plate of two fried eggs.

"Tea for me, please," Bofur said, "an' some for him, too, please."

"Alright," she smiled. She lifted a plate from the other tray; it had sausages, biscuits, gravy, and ham was set in front of him. "This one ya said goes t'…" She looked at Dori then between Bifur and Bofur. "Bi…fur?" She moved it slightly towards Bofur.

"The other one, lass," Dori chuckled, already holding his knife and fork.

She turned pinked and smiled apologetically. "Ah, that's right. Sorry lad!" She set the plate in front of Bifur who said a hurried thank-you in Khuzdul before digging in. "So tha' leaves Bofur," she smiled, setting his plate in front of him. He was more than pleased to see that he had bacon, fried eggs, biscuits slathered in gravy, and a slice of ham. Taking both platters, she looked at the table of content dwarves. "So, you lot then are Dori, Nori, Ori, Bifur, and Bofur then?" she asked, pointing to each of them.

"It's alright if you get a few o' us confused," Ori said, pouring some cream into his porridge. "Most folk do for awhile." He spoke with a reassuring smile, reaching for his honey.

She let out a small laugh. "Ah, I think I'll have ya names down by t'night. I'm a fast learner when it comes t' names. Helps when you've so many customers a day –as ya lads saw last night. Now, give a moment an' I'll have your tea an' scones out here." She moved to head back into the kitchen.

"Scones?" Bofur grinned, looking at Dori. "My, my –isn't that fancy o' you, Master Dori?" he joked.

Dori's brow rose as he glanced at the younger dwarf. "They were recommended to us last night, after you three tucked in. An older gentleman said they've the best scones in the whole of Dale here." He lightly shrugged, taking a bite out of a piece of toast.

"But, from what they were sayin'," Nori added, "they eat here every day. So, they're probably a bit biased."

"Either way, it's been an awfully long time since I last had a scone," Bofur grinned, using his fork to cut one of his fried eggs in half. As the yolk oozed out, he swirled a bite of gravy-covered biscuit in it before popping it in his mouth. "Not since Mr. Bilbo's home at the least," he said through a full mouth.

Ori scrunched his nose up slightly as Bofur unknowing sprayed some crumbs into his porridge. "Mr. Bilbo had some mighty tasty food," he said, delicately picking out as many of the crumbs as he could. "I wonder if all hobbits do?"

"We could go back and visit him someday," Nori said with a small shrug. "After all, he told us that tea is at four o'clock sharp an' there's no need to knock."

Dori nodded, smiling. "That he did. We may take him up on that someday…I hope the wee lad is doing alright. He and Master Gandalf had left in quite a hurry."

"Hî ku churf ghürfunm," said Bifur in a rather matter-of-fact tone. As he spoke, he moved his hands about, motioning to his heart as well his stomach. "Zithim kïk…"

"Aye, he was homesick," Bofur agreed, nodding. This time, he didn't spray Ori's porridge with crumbs, for Ori used his hands to shield the bowl. "But! He got t' leave with a mighty bit o' treasure, now didn't he lads?"

They nodded in agreement as Baylee returned. She set a large teapot down on the table along with a heaping platter of scones, some bowls of clotted cream, honey, and butter. "There ya go," she said. "Anythin' else before I pop off for me own food?"

"This should be good enough for now, lass," Dori smiled. "Thank you."

She gave a small nod before leaving them be and heading into the kitchen. A quiet sigh escaped her mouth as she walked over to the oven. She yawned as she opened a small latch and peering inside. Grinning as she saw a dozen or so loaves of bread baking within, she noted that they still had a ways to go before they were done.

'Good. Galiene will be in soon so she can fetch them if more customers come in,' she thought, closing the latch and moving to the hearth. A pot of porridge was sitting near the coals, staying warm. From this, she filled herself up a bowl, adding in some cream and honey. It was as she was grabbing herself a scone and a mug of cider that heard the first round of loud laughter coming from the common room. 'What is so funny this early in the morning?' she thought, raising her brow.

As she left the kitchen, she saw her answer: The dwarves were tossing their food back and forth, using both their hands and mouths to catch whatever was thrown at them. She tilted her head curiously; Bofur called out to Dori, who sat the farthest away from him. Plucking up a link of sausage, Dori tossed it to him and Bofur leaned forward, intending to catch it in his mouth –however, Bifur snatched it in midair and popped it into his mouth. The others burst into laughter while Bofur used the flat of his knife to thwack his cousin.

"Stealin' my sausages again, are you?" he lightly scolded.

"Ah, you wouldn't have caught it anyway," Nori snorted. "Bombur was always the one who could catch food in his mouth."

"Doesn't mean I can't catch food, either! C'mon, Dori –try it again!"

Baylee chuckled to herself, shaking her head as she went to eat by one of the windows. Her father had always told her that dwarves were an odd bunch to be around and he should know –when he was younger, he was apprenticed to one of the last dwarves in Laketown as a blacksmith. Now that Erebor and Dale were being restored, she wondered if more dwarves would be coming to the city and to stay at their inn. She wouldn't mind the business; from what she had seen so far, the dwarves were more polite than half the human customers…

"Baylee, lass!"

She jumped slightly as her father's large hand clapped down on her shoulder. "Hello, papa," she said, looking up at him. Through his bushy beard, she could see a smile on his lips. "What do you need?"

"I need for you t' go to the market later," he said, sitting in the chair across from her. "Tell ol' Bert that we'll need some of his meat. He'll be paid upon delivery, like usual."

She nodded, spooning the porridge into her mouth.

"And I also need ya t' visit the market for herbs," he continued. "I'd send Wenna, but she's on linen duty today."

Baylee stuck her tongue out. "Linen duty is the worst," she murmured. Her father quietly laughed and her cheeks turned pink. "Sorry."

"No, no…it's alright," he said, reaching over and ruffling her hair. "One last thing before I forget."

"Hm?" She glanced up, her spoon hanging out of her mouth.

He pointed an accusing finger at her and gave her a rather fatherly look. "That overdress o' yours. It's holey, stained, an' over all, nothin' but scrap cloth now. I want ya t' go t' the seamstress an' get yourself fitted for a new one."

At that, a small pout came to her lips. "Papa, this one works just fine. It's held up rather well for bein' five years old!"

"Baylee…it's got stains from the War on it," he said, his voice quieter. "I think it's time t' give it up."

She looked down at the yellow garment she wore over her clothing. When she had first got it from her mother, it had been as bright as a sunflower but, with time, it had become faded to a sort of dirty cream color. It did not help that there were splotches of red and black in places; stains that most people thought were spilt wine or soot from the hearths. "I'm still goin' t' keep it," she told him, her eyes glancing up at him.

"I know ya will," he said with an understanding smile. "It's just startin' t' not look so nice, 'Lee. A new one will do ya good. In fact…" He leaned over, pulling a satchel of coins from his belt and tossing it across the table to her. "There. Get yourself two. Or one an' a new dress or somethin'."

There was a shout from the table of dwarves and Baylee watched as a too-enthusiastically-thrown scone arched its way through the air, accidentally aimed right at the back of her father's head. She lurched forward, a yelp rising in her own throat, but before it could leave her mouth, Warren lifted his hand, catching the scone an inch from his scalp. A broad grin came to his lips as he turned around, holding the food up for the dwarves to see and giving them a small nod.

"Thanks, lads," he said, taking a bite out of it. The dwarves stared at him for a moment, their expressions mixtures of shock and horror. After that (very short) moment passed, however, they burst out laughing, giving him applause for his marvelous catch. Seeing the confused look on his daughter's face, he chuckled. "You learn a thing or two when apprenticed to a dwarf for fifteen years. An' it helps I saw it comin' in the window's reflection." He playfully winked at her.

"Ahh," she said, smiling. "Anythin' else I should know, since I'll be waitin' on those five for a week?" Lifting her mug, she drained half the contents of it.

He scratched his chin, crumbs falling out of his beard. "Y'know…I think it's best for you t' find out on your own, lass," he said after some minutes. He popped the rest of the scone in his mouth.

Baylee's brow rose. That answer, she knew, meant that she was in for a fair bit of hard work. "I don't like the sounds of that," she told him, her tone dry.

Laughing, Warren put his hands on his knees and looked at her. "I'll tell ya this much, 'Lee: Dwarves like t' have fun, as ya can see behind me. Sometimes, their fun can be at the expense of others, but it's never meant in harm. Only for the laughs." Standing up, he ruffled her hair again. "Have a good day in the market, eh? An' don't be spendin' all that coin in one place, aye?"

"I won't," she chuckled warily, setting her spoon down so she could flatten her hair. She was thankful she hadn't yet braided it that morning. Watching her father walk into the kitchen, she ate her own scone and looked over at the dwarves to find them filling their teacups to the brim. Suddenly, they all lifted the cups and began guzzling down their tea. At the same time, they delicately set their teacups down on the table before each letting out a loud belch.

Bifur noticed her staring and smiled in a friendly fashion. He called out to her in Khuzdul and raised his teacup approvingly, his hand smacking against the outside of his forearm a couple of times. The others turned, looking at her, their expressions matching his.

"He says that this is some of the best tea he's ever had, miss!" Ori chirped as his companions tossed and rolled their dishes to Dori. This act she had seen last night; they were making it easier for her to gather them up later.

"Th-thank you," she said with an awkward smile. "It's from Dorwinion." She moved to dunk her scone into her porridge, scooping some of it up as she took a bite. The floorboards creaked and she looked up in time to see Bofur approaching her.

"Er, I know you're in the middle o' eatin' your breakfast 'n all, miss," he said, smiling apologetically, "but we were wonderin' if'n you or your father, perhaps, knew any folk in the market that would be willin' t' deal with dwarves?" he asked her.

"Uh, well…I know that a fair few o' the folk would love to," she told him. "But a lot o' them are also cheapskates an' would try t' cheat you lads. What sort of items are you lookin' t' buy or sell?"

"Well, we've got gold an' jewels that'd we like to trade for food," he explained. "You know, like meat, fruits, vegetables…that sort of thing. We dwarves can cook rather well, but we're lost on farmin', especially since we live in the mountains."

She nodded in understanding. "Well, for stuff like that, you'll want t' talk t' me father. I'll go get him for ya." She got up, grabbing both her bowl and the satchel of money.

"Thank you, miss," he said, going to wait with the other dwarves.

As she entered the kitchen, Baylee spotted her father cramming half a sausage in his mouth as he was hunched in front of the fire. Leaning over, she could see that he was frying himself some eggs. She raised her brow and shook her head. "I hope you're chewing."

He glanced over at her. "Of course I am," he said, though it came out sounding more like 'Off corff aw am'. He finished chewing and swallowed the sausage, giving his pan a small shake so that the eggs would not stick to the metal.

"The dwarves would like t' talk t' ya when you're free," she told him. "They're lookin' t' make connections in the market." She dunked her bowl into a large bucket before moving to finish drinking her cider.

"Really?" Warren asked. Baylee thought she could hear a note of enthusiasm in his voice. Looking back to his eggs, he winced as his forehead smacked into one of the cast iron pans that hung from the wall. Grumbling to himself, he used a spatula to get them out of the pan and onto his plate. "Well, then…I'll have t' see what I can do for 'em," he mused. "Are ya goin' t' the market right now?"

"Aye. I figure I may as well get everythin' done before the supper rush." She scrunched her nose up slightly as her father reached over and mussed her hair up yet again.

"Then ya best get out there, lassie," he chuckled. "An' if you see the lads from Dorwinion –tell them t' get their hindquarters over here as fast as they can!"

Untying her apron, Baylee nodded. "Will do, papa," she grinned. Tossing it onto a counter, she left the kitchen and entered the inn yard. Across from her, she could see the walls of the stables and could hear one of their occupants whinnying. 'Must be penned up away from its friend,' she thought with a quiet laugh, passing by the brick portion of the stables. Her father had converted that portion into a small smithy for himself when they had rebuilt the place.

It was a ten minute walk to the market. From there, it was another five minutes until she reached Bert the Butcher. She pushed open door and peeked inside; it was a dark place, but it was clean and tidy. Stepping in, she could smell the metallic tang of blood coming from the back room and she mentally cringed. The butcher's was not her most favorite place to be.

"Mr. Bert? Are ya in today?" she called, her voice a bit on the shy side. She could hear some movement in the back before a middle-aged man came in through the half-door. He smiled at her as he removed his apron, hanging it on a hook somewhere in the other room.

"Ah, Miss Baylee!" he called, wiping his hands on a towel. "What can I do for ya this mornin'?"

"Papa sent me t' make his usual order with ya," she timidly said. "He says payment will be given on delivery like normal."

The man nodded. "Aye, alright lassie," he smiled. "I'll have his order t' him by the end of the day. Anythin' else for ya, lassie?"

She glanced around, seeing ropes of sausages, some smoked and others freshly made, hanging from rows of hooks in the corner. "Do ya have any of that smoked elk sausage o' yours?" she asked.

He grinned, walking to the very last row of hooks, which looked empty from where Baylee stood. From it, he removed the final two links. "You've good timing, lassie. These are my last ones until my son comes back from hunting." He held them out to her. "Two coppers."

Her brow rose. "Just two? Normally, it's three a link."

Bert shrugged. "They're a couple days older than what I'd normally like t' sell them," he told her. "And your father is a good friend, so, just two," he explained. "Have a good day, lass," he said to her as she put the coins into his palm.

"Thank you," she chirped. "You too!" She left the shop, thankful for the fresh air.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Aye, this shop looks like it'll do the trick," Bofur said as he and Bifur walked around an empty building. From the outside, it did not look like much. From the inside, it looked even less impressive; no one had bothered to clean it up after Smaug's first appearance. It was this seemingly ruined place that the two of them had bought just that morning without looking at it, only a rough outline of its structure.

Bifur did not seem as impressed with their haphazard purchase as his cousin. "Zaharala hadhidh irmish aslôn nîd…" he said, pushing against one of the walls. He was thankful that it was far more solid than it looked. "Kulhu zu mâ ughlekh khi uhudûd uanak?" He glanced over at Bofur, his hands clenching into fists before he pressed them together.

"Aye, of course we can fix it! We're dwarrows! Especially if we enlist Dori, Nori, and Ori t' help us!" he beamed. "Look-" He walked over to one of the walls near the door. "We'll knock this out and put in a big window so we can display our toys! The children will flock to us!"

Shaking his head, Bifur kicked a piece of plaster across the floor. "Kheled naruk ghivesh zu katûb juzr?" He did not like the thought of spending even more money into a place that may not do as well as his cousin hoped…

Bofur nodded, his hands on his hips as he looked around. "But everythin' else will be relatively cheap an' easy t' make. Just think, Bifur-" He motioned to the rest of the walls. "We can have shelves all around filled to the brim with toys! Leave the floor nice and open so the wee lads an' lasses can bounce about and not break anything. We could even sell some sweets if we get enough people interested in us." Then, grabbing Bifur's arm, he tugged him out into the busy street, pointing to an area above the door. "Imagine it, _Bifur and Bofur: Toymakers Extraordinaire_! People will come from all over t' buy our toys."

Bifur's furry brow rose and he looked at Bofur. His cousin was grinned broadly as he stared up at the wall, his eyes filled with wonder and hope. Their shop back in the Blue Mountains had done rather well for the amount of people around, though he wasn't so sure how they would do in Dale…Regardless, his cousin's hope was more than a bit infectious and he smiled, nodding.

"Gholizur umeze khi dágir," he said at last, bumping his fists together once more.

Bofur grinned, pulling him back into the shop, kicking aside some plaster. "We need a broom," he thought aloud. "Maybe a shovel…" He walked into the next room, which could possibly become their work room; it led into a third room that had once been a kitchen, the fireplace that still had the remains of its last fire in it.

Heading up the stairs, he felt that the steps, though old and creaky, were still as strong as ever. "Nice open area up here," he called down. Unlike the first floor, the second only had two rooms. Inspecting both, Bofur was more than pleased to find that each had windows facing out over the city.

"Gur yothurur burûj gagin?" Bifur called up.

"Three!" he called down. He started up the staircase again, making for the third floor, which, he found out, wasn't really a floor so much as a covered balcony. At the top of the stairs, there was a frail door that led into the open air. The floor was tiled with clay squares, their paint long faded. Some were intact, but most were cracked and uneven from age and weather. "Hmm. This will take a bit of time t' fix up," he murmured. "We've got plenty of it, though…"

Turning, he went back down the stairs just in time to see Bifur reaching the second floor. The other dwarf was walking around, banging his fist against the walls to see how study they were.

"Now that's just silly," he thought aloud.

Bifur looked at him, confused. "Mê tuks zahar aslôn nîd band!" He stamped on the floor before listening to hear if anything fell off on the floor below. Neither one could hear a thing. He nodded approvingly and lightly kicked the wall. "Zaharala ók u-uzgák khiz kheluz sûthick –sûthick!- mâ agùthôl ur-líg felá zakíl ra sek bacarack." As he spoke, he waved his hands about, signing different things to his cousin.

"Some mew plaster would do it good, that's for sure." Bofur walked over to one of the windows and looked out. "I think up here would make for a better workshop than downstairs." From where he stood, he couldn't see much thanks to his height, but he supposed that the view was a nice one. "Our display window is going to be dwarrow-height," he murmured. In his mind, he could already see the store brightly painted in blues and greens –fun colors to attract the attention of children. He was slightly startled as Bifur clapped a hand on his shoulder.

"Niz nâk ö'ekh bazr," he gently warned. "Tilje mâ umikë."

"Aye, I know," he sighed, sounding a little deflated. "If we had twenty hardy dwarrows with us, it could get done in no time. But, there's just you 'n me for now." He suddenly smiled again and clasped his cousin by the shoulders. "We're in this together. Sometimes we'll have help, sometimes we won't, but in the end, this shop will be worth it, Bifur. I know it will be."

Unable to help it (Bofur's optimism had always been so infectious), Bifur smiled and lightly thumped Bofur on the chest with his palm. "Ûsgan," he said, lightly thumping again.

Copying him, Bofur chuckled. "Greatest luck t' us indeed."


	3. Chapter 3

Dori leaned back in his chair as he took in a long breath of mint-flavored smoke from his pipe. With his eyes closed, he could not see the flickering of the flames before him, but he could certainly feel them. The warmth felt good against his skin, reminding him of his own hearth back in Erebor. Just a couple more days, he thought, and he could be sitting in front of it again with a nice cup of tea while listening to Nori and Ori bickering…

Wait, that last bit wasn't right…

Opening his eyes, he turned round to see his brothers motioning angrily at two sets of stone dice on the table. "Your dice are weighted, Nori! That isn't far!" Ori said, trying to sound as stern as possible. Being the youngest of the three, however, made him sound anything but authoritative –at least to Nori.

"They are not weighted! Why would I cheat at a game of dice with me own brother when I know full well he hasn't anythin' o' value to offer?" Nori snapped, throwing one of the dice. It hit Ori square in the forehead, making him scrunch his nose up and rub the spot.

'Durin's beard, they're at it again…' Dori thought, his eyes closing again. This time, however, it was not in peace.

Ori snatched up the die that had been thrown at him. "This is too one o' your weighted dice!" he argued. "I see the bits of granite you've stuck in the numbers!" He angrily pointed at the minute, white flecks inside the die's rune markings.

"You couldn't tell granite from gabbros," Nori growled, snatching it back from him. "You've never even worked in a mine! Mum made sure of that!"

"That's because mum saw my potential as a transcriber," Ori grumbled, looking away with a small, indignant pout.

Nori rolled his eyes, gathering up the rest of his dice. "No, she knew you wouldn't last three days in one of those nâshtagûl-"

"Language," Dori idly warned. "And stop your bickering. Nori, use your unweighted dice. You're not trying to swindle money out o' people here –least of all, your brother." He shook his head and sighed, smoking slowly billowing from his mouth and nose. "Why, if dear ol' mum were alive and hearing the way you two fight…She'd knock you both upside the head an' make you scrub the floors."

"The floors could use a good scrubbin', but we don't make guests do that." They looked up as the blonde waitress, who they found out was named Demelza, brought over a platter of food for them. "Here you lads are," she said. "Sorry it took a bit; we've just got a couple o' wagons of supplies here from Dorwinion, so the kitchen an' store room are in a bit of a tizzy."

Dori got up from his chair and dragged it back over to the table. "It's quite alright, miss," he replied, smiling reassuringly. "This should do us quite well for now."

"Alright then," she said. "Just give us a holler if'n you're needin' anything." With a twirl of her skirts, she walked off into the kitchen once more, leaving the dwarves as the room's only occupants. From what they had gathered, this was a rare thing to happen.

"Bifur and Bofur are missing out," Ori spoke, trying to change subject with his brothers. "Where are they at?" He started to cut the loaf of crusty bread so he could dunk some into his soup.

Nori shrugged, still feeling a bit sour towards him and Dori. "Probably in that run-down shack they're goin' to call a store." He slid his dice into a pouch on his belt, his brows furrowed slightly.

"It's a strong building," Dori interjected, throwing him a look. "Once they get it cleaned up, I'm sure it'll suit their needs." He sliced a chunk of cheese from the large wedge they had been given and dropped it into his soup bowl. "It's adds a bit more of a salty flavor," he told his brothers when they looked at him oddly.

Nori shook his head. "It's a gamble I wouldn't have made an' that's sayin' something," he told the other two. He merely ripped a chunk of bread from the loaf and split that in half. Between the pieces, he spooned a bit of soup before placing some cheese atop it. On top of that, he placed a wedge of meat and smashed it all together between the two pieces of bread before taking a large bite. "They're toymakers, not miracle workers," he somehow managed to say through the mouthful of food.

Dori rolled his eyes. "Let's not discuss your habits at the lunch table, shall we?" he dryly suggested. "Ori, have you been keepin' a record of our goings-on over the last few days?"

"Yes, I have," he replied, fumbling with something on his belt. He held up a small, leather-bound book. "All of it is in here, includin' the meetings we had just this morning." Flicking the book open, he flipped through it until he found the most recent pages. "See? It's all here." He handed it over to Dori.

Nori leaned over, looking it over as well. "It seems that we'll be doin' most of our dealings with that Ivsgard fellow," he murmured. Straightening up, he took another bite of his food before spooning some soup into his mouth.

"Indeed it does," Dori agreed. "As well as that Lady Guthwine…"

Ori, having heard most of what they were talking about earlier, paid them no mind as he ate his lunch. He did his best to not slurp the soup from his spoon, not wanting to disrupt the general quiet of the room at the moment. Truthfully, the work his brothers did bored him. He had only come with them because he would be able to see how the humans of Dale lived (much different from the small villages near the Blue Mountains). Maybe even see an elf or two again (alas, that had yet to happen). There was another book on his person, a slightly larger one than the notebook Dori was looking over, that he had been filling with sketches of people, animals, and buildings during his stay. It had been empty when they arrived; by then, it was nearly full.

Hearing the kitchen door creak open, he glanced up in time to see Warren backing his way out of the kitchen, holding up one end of a massive oak barrel. As the other half of the barrel came through, he could see that a young man held the other end. He was similar to Warren in size and height, but the color of his eyes matched the bright, green of Baylee's and dark, blonde hair. Though, there was one notable feature about this young fellow that kept Ori from noticing the rest: Almost the entirety of the left side of his face looked like something big had tried to make a snack out of him.

"More t' the left," the man told Warren as they carried the barrel behind the bar. The two of them grunted loudly as they started to crouch down. "Watch your fingers!"

"You, too," Warren answered as they set the barrel down. Seeing that it was in its proper place and had no intent of rolling away, they grinned and stood up straight again. "Now, how many did ya say were left out there?" he jokingly asked.

The young man smirked as Warren set a large hand on his shoulder. "Eight. You told me to refill our alcohol supplies an' that's just what I did."

"And not a day too soon. We were going to be out of ale by the end o' the week an' out o' wine by tomorrow."

He feigned a look of hurt. "Now, father, when have I ever let ya down?" he asked, unscarred brow rising.

"I think Miss Baylee got the short-stick in her family," Ori quietly told the other two, interrupting their chat about what virgin ore would be best to give to which of their potential business partners.

Dori raised his spoon from his soup, a long, thin string of cheese rising with it. "Hm? Why's that, laddie?"

Ori motioned to the two men, who were ducking back into the kitchen. "That younger bloke is her brother."

"I'd like t' know what they eat," Nori said, half joking. "Maybe I could get taller than Dwalin." He spooned more soup into his mouth before ripping off another hunk of bread. This one he put into the middle of his soup, using his spoon to mash it up.

At that, Dori and Ori snorted into their bowls. "You already are," Ori grinned. "But only because of your hair!" He grinned cheekily as Nori shot him a small glare, though he was able to see that his middle brother also wore a small grin on his lips.

The kitchen door was opened yet again as Warren and his son came hauling in another barrel. The dwarves could see that it was taking them some effort; as strong as Warren looked (and was), his cheeks were red and there were beads of sweat forming along his brow. Dori frowned; didn't they have others to help?

"Lads, would you like some help with those barrels?" he called over when they had set this second barrel down.

Warren panted slightly as he looked back at the dwarf. "I couldn't ask tha' o' you, Master Dori. You're a guest here!"

He smiled reassuringly. "You're not askin'; I'm offerin'. Now, with that said, would you like some help?"

With a small laugh, Warren nodded in defeat. "Aye, some help would much appreciated. We've got six more of these heavy blighters t' haul in."

"Should be easy enough," he said, standing. "Nori, Ori –let's go. Lunch will still be here when we get back."

Just as a reassurance, both Ori and Nori shoved a last bite of cheese into their mouths, chewing it as they followed Warren and his son through the kitchen and into the inn yard. They were more than a little surprised to find three wagons packed neatly into the area. The largest of them was facing the door of the kitchen and the three dwarves could see why: It was filled with nothing but barrels of varying sizes, though none of them could be called small.

"In you go, Ori," Nori said, hefting his brother into the back of the cart. "Roll us one of those big ones, aye?"

Feeling a hand on his shoulder, Warren glanced over at his son. "Are they goin' to be alright, carrying one of those blighters?" he asked quietly, concern written on his face.

"Aye, don't worry, Will. Dwarves are much stronger than they look. How else d'ya think they hollowed out mountains?" He smiled confidently as he watched Ori spin one of the larger barrels around and slowly begin to ease it off the wagon. "How many horses drew that one?"

"Six," he replied. "An' all of them get t' go back Ivsgard when we're done here." His eyes widened as he watched Dori and Nori easily carry the barrel up the steps and into the kitchen. What he didn't notice was that, as the strongest of the three brothers, Dori held most of its weight. "Where's Baylee at, by the way?" He and his father walked over to the cart, having regained their breath.

Pointing out a barrel to Ori, he shrugged. "She's probably off at the seamstress, makin' sure her new clothes fit."

Will thanked Ori as he rolled the first end of the barrel to him. "She's finally giving up that overdress of hers?" Despite his brows being furrowed in concentration, his eyes were wide in surprise.

"Not too willingly, I don't think." He grunted, catching the other end of the barrel. The two of them could feel the liquid within slosh slightly; it was very full. "But there are a few lads in town who're gettin' in the marryin' frame o' mind and I thought it best for her to look a bit more…you know. Proper."

Raising his brow as they entered the common room for the third time, Will gave his father a small glare over the top of the barrel. "She looks proper enough. If she has t' get dolled up for some bloke to take a fancy t' her, then he isn't worth her time," he gruffed. They set the barrel down and he leaned backwards, feeling something in his back pop. "But she does need a new overdress –that I will say." He pointed an accusing finger at his father. "An' not because she needs t' find a lad."

Warren cocked his brow. "…Gone all this time an' ya still weren't able t' find yourself a sense o' humor," he chuckled, reaching over and mussing up Will's hair. "I had been joking, son. You know I wouldn't put your sister into anythin' she didn't want. Ah, that one goes over there, masters." He pointed at a lineup of smaller barrels as Dori and Nori came in, each carrying a medium-sized barrel.

Will's cheeks flushed a deep crimson at his father's words. "Er…Well then."

Laughing, Warren hooked his arm around his shoulders and led him back outside. "Ya need to liven up a bit. If ya weren't so young, people would think you're Baylee's dad –not her younger twin!" He pulled back from his son as he spotted something behind him, a wary look on his face. "Oh dear…" he murmured, feigning concern

"What? What is it?" Will turned around just in time to be knocked backwards by a blur of bright green and yellow. He grunted as he landed hard on the ground, but laughed, hugging his assailant. "Baylee!"

"When in the world did ya get back?!" she laughed, clinging onto her brother. "I didn't see hide nor hair o' ya blokes while I was out!"

He grinned, sitting up and finding that the dwarves were chuckling at the sight of them. "That's because we snuck in through the eastern gate." Getting to his knees, he hoisted his sister up and over his shoulders like a sack of potatoes. She squealed, kicking her legs as she playfully hit him in a futile attempt to get him to put her down. "Huh. You've lost weight, 'Lee!" he teased, giving her a small toss just to tease her. "Inn's been crowded, has it?"

"Put me down, ya big lout!" she laughed, cheeks flushed.

"This is what you get for bein' short an' as light as a feather. I mean, you're so much easier t' carry than those barrels of mead an' beer."

Nori and Dori, who had heard the word 'mead', lifted their brows and looked at the barrel they were carrying. Wide grins spread across their faces and they hurried their now-precious cargo into the inn. They knew what they were having with dinner…

Pouting, Baylee reached up and grabbed a hold of the edge of the last barrel in the wagon before pulling herself up and away from her brother. Ori blinked in surprise as her head suddenly appeared overtop it. "Hello, Ori," she chirped before hauling herself up to sit on the lid of the barrel. "Can't get me up here, can ya?" she grinned down at her brother. That grin instantly faded as Will reached over, grabbing her ankles.

"So that's your new overdress?" Warren said as he clamored into the wagon. "Thank you, Master Ori. We should be good t' go for now. You can go finish up your lunch." Will quickly released his sister's ankles, trying to look innocent as he turned away.

"It was no trouble, sir," Ori chirped before making his way out of the wagon.

Warren lifted Baylee away from her brother's reach, setting her so she stood on top of the barrel. "Yellow again? Hm. But I see ya got some green, too." He grabbed the hem of the overdress and pulled it out so he could better see the circular designs the green fabric created. "Hm. This sort o' design is new for you though. Don't think I've ever seen a piece o' your clothing without some sort o' flower on it…"

"Well, I didn't want it all green…an' I didn't want t' trouble the seamstress too much with silly flowers," she said, cheeks turning red again. "Papa, you can set me back on the ground…" She shifted uncomfortably.

He smiled apologetically and set her on the floor of the wagon. "Sorry, 'Lee. I just wanted a better look an' with how short you are…"

"You an' William are just giants!"

"I think the dress suits her." Demelza poked her head out from the other side of the second wagon, her blonde hair falling out of the loose bun it had been in. "Too much green would have made her look sickly."

Baylee smiled, cheeks still red. "Thank ya, auntie." She hopped out of the wagon as her father lifted up the final barrel. Walking to the wall of the inn, she stooped and plucked up the box she had dropped upon seeing her brother. "Do ya need any help haulin' stuff in?"

"Me 'n Wenna have gotten most of it already," Demelza told her, "but, here-" She lifted a wooden crate from the wagon and handed it down to her, "-take this in. It's our dried berries."

Her eyes lit up. "I can finally make some bread again!" she grinned. "Now Abbot can stop harkin' me 'bout never havin' any these days."

"He's just a silly, crotchety old man anyway," her aunt told her as she walked off.

Going into the kitchen, Baylee could see that many boxes had been stacked in the corner, near the cellar door. She set the crate atop the pile, tucking her own, smaller box under her arm before grabbing a piece of cheese and leaving the kitchen. Across the common room, she saw the three brothers eating quite merrily; Ori's feet dangled off of his stool and he was lightly kicking them back and forth as a child would. A smile came to her lips and she turned down the hallway, making for the private quarters.

'Cute little fellow, he is,' she thought.

Her room was in the back corner of the inn, and was the only one in the private quarters that had windows facing both north and east. It did not have much in the way of furniture –just her bed, a small desk, and a trunk at the foot of her bed- but her walls were decorated with bright, green and white hangings of running horses and intricate knot work. One wall, though, was covered in various maps detailing the lands east of the Misty Mountains. These things had come from Rohan, having once belonged to her mother and aunt, who had grown up in the Westfold.

But she paid these no heed as she came into the room. Taking the last bite of her cheese, she knelt before the old trunk –this had belonged to her father's mother- and gently set the box inside of it, having to nudge over some of her older, more worn dresses.

"I'll save you for somethin' special," she murmured to herself, smiling. Inside the box, she knew there was a sky-blue dress embroidered with white flowers around its hems. Too pretty, she knew, to be worn in the inn every day, but there would come a time she could pull it out…

Her eyes drifted past the small pile of folded clothes to the worn wooden handle of some sort of tool. She was about to reach for it, but stopped herself and shook her head. Letting the trunk's lid fall shut, she quietly sighed.

'No need to be looking at that,' she mentally scolded herself. 'You'll just stir up bad memories…'

"Your two favorite patrons are here." She jumped and looked up, her eyes wide. When she saw her brother leaning against the doorframe, eating an apple, she eased. "Sorry. Didn't mean to give ya a fright." He smiled apologetically and wandered over, offering his hand to her.

"It's fine," she reassured him, standing up with his help. She brushed a bit of dust from her new dress. "William 'n Abbot, huh? Best get started on that bread for Abbot, then."

Will quietly laughed, offering her a bite of the fruit. "What? He's bein' that impatient?" He held onto the apple as she took a bite, not wanting her to steal it.

Chewing the bite, she followed him out of the room and down the hallway. "Not terribly. We've only been out o' dried fruits for a week, but it's still a bit o' a downer on him. An' me." She reached past him, opening the door into the main hall before he could and grinned cheekily when he raised his brow at her. "I miss havin' it in the mornin'."

Will hooked his arm around her shoulders, starting to lead her back out into the common room. "Ya know, for being my older sister-"

"Don't you even finish tha' sentence, lad," she warned, her voice stern, but a joking smile on her lips. "Ya had twenty minutes more t' bake 'n me. That's why you're so big."

He grinned, plucking up a clean mug with his free hand. "Well, you were startin' t' get burnt, apparently." He flicked her brunette braid over her shoulder and jumped back just in the nick of time to avoid getting his gut smacked. "Gone two months an' my own twin tries t' hit me! What is this world comin' to?" Feigning a look of hurt, he flicked open the tap on a barrel of ale, filling his mug.

"You're lucky I got customers t' tend to, Will," she grinned, managing to lightly smack his arm. She went over to the table where the elder William and Abbot sat, both of them drinking some ale. "Good-day t' ya, sirs," she smiled. "I take it the two o' ya want the usual for your lunches?"

"Aye, that'll be good," said William, his wrinkled face scrunching up as he smiled. "And maybe a side of some o' those sweet sausages?"

She nodded in understanding. "I can do tha' for you if that's what ya want." Turning to Abbot, she pointed at him, grinning. "Guess what we just got in this afternoon?"

The old man blinked, his somewhat sour expression brightening. "Ah, so the tradin' lads are back?" he said. "When's the soonest you'll have some o' that bread made?"

"Tomorrow morning at the latest," she told him. "We've still got a lot yet to put away."

He slowly nodded. "Aye, then I'll take some o' that sour bread you've got. It goes good with stew."

"Alright then. Anythin' else for you then?" When they shook their heads, she excused herself from their table and went to check on the dwarves. "You lads needin' anythin'?" she asked, approaching the table. She could see that their bowls were empty and that Ori was nibbling on some bread while Nori ate some cheese. Dori, on the other hand, was blowing smoke rings into the air above their table.

Ori looked up at her, smiling shyly. "Can I have another bowl o' soup, please?" he asked.

"Make that two bowls," Nori said, shoving his bowl towards her.

"Three, rather," Dori chuckled. He set his bowl inside Nori's and those inside of Ori's. "And, could you perhaps fill them all the way t' the top, Miss Baylee?"

"That I can do," she said, taking the bowls from Ori. Leaning over, she peeked into Ori's mug. Only enough for a small drink was left in the bottom of his mug. "An' it looks like you three need some more ale. Can't have you eatin' lunch with nothin' t' drink!"

"Further proof that this establishment has been given the perfect name," Dori chuckled, lightly patting his stomach. He watched as she scooped up the three mugs by their handles and walked off. Leaning forward, he saw Nori pulling a set of three dice from the pouch at his side and raised his brow. "If you two are goin' to go at it again, those best be your normal dice."

Nori rolled his eyes. "Of course they are. See for yourself." He rolled one over to his brother, who inspected it carefully. "Those are entirely shale, I swear."

"They better be," Ori murmured. "I don't like it when you cheat, especially if it's against your own family."

As Dori handed the die back to him, Nori allowed a small smirk to come to his lips. "How do you think I learned t' be a good cheater? Playin' against you two 'n dad is what got me started."

"What do you mean by that?" Dori questioned, his brow rising.

He cocked his own brow as he looked at his brother. "I never stood a chance against the two of you. I had to think of a way to win somehow, didn't I?" he grinned, starting to shake his dice.

Ori looked at his own dice, which had been carved from petrified wood many years ago. "I just don't think it's terribly nice that you try an' cheat against your brother," he said simply. A foaming mug of ale was set beside him and he started to say 'Thank you, Miss Baylee' but, thankfully, he only got out the 'Thank you' when he saw that it had not been Baylee who set the ale next to him, but Will.

"No trouble, little masters," he said, smiling at them. Now that he was so close to them, Ori was finding it hard to not stare at the scars gashed into his skin. "Is there anything else I can get ya or does my sister have you taken care of?" he asked, putting his hands on his hips.

"O' course I have." Baylee appeared from behind him, her platter held above her head as she leaned over. A bowl was set before Dori; Will could see that it was filled almost to the point of overflowing. "Can't let our customers starve or get thirsty now, can we?" she mused, giving Nori his soup.

"No. That'd be the Empty Tankard across town," Will joked, moving to add more fuel to the fire behind the dwarves. The sun may have been out during the day, but night was starting to fall and, with the flames dying, a chill was rising in the air.

Looking at Ori, Baylee saw that he was still staring at her brother; she knew his gaze was directed at the scars. As she set his soup in front of him, she leaned over a bit more than needed. "He fought in the War," she quietly told him.

He looked down at his bowl, cheeks turning a deep red. "I wasn't meaning to stare," he mumbled. "I'm sorry."

She lightly patted the back of his shoulder. "He's used t' it," she told him. "He'll even tell ya the story if you ask nicely," she chuckled.

Will glanced over his shoulder at the group. "Hm?"

"Nothin'. Go back to your fire feedin'."

"Careful, 'Lee," he grinned, "or I'll have t' set you on the lamp there." He nodded towards the iron chandelier that hung from the center of the ceiling.

"Oh, you wouldn't dare!"

Will got up and moved towards the table, grinning determinedly. "You think?" The dwarves smiled as they watched the two of them; they could hear Abbot and William laughing behind them.

"Get 'er, Willie!" the elder William called. The younger grinned, starting to stalk towards his sister.

Her eyes widened and she backed up. "Oh no you don't –I've got customers t' tend to an' you've got a fire t' build!" She held her serving tray in front of her almost like a shield, her other hand reaching for a chair.

It was then Warren entered the room, holding a bloodied cloth to his forearm. His brow rose as he saw his son and daughter and he shook his head. "Will! Stop terrorizin' your sister!" he ordered. "An' Baylee, your aunt needs help in the kitchen." Pulling back the cloth, he could see his fresh wound was bleeding quite nicely. "And maybe boil me up some water. I'm goin' t' have t' stitch this shut."

She frowned, taking his arm and inspecting it as they walked towards the kitchen. "How'd you get that?"

"Nail sticking out of the wagon. It's nothing. Just boil me up some water." He followed her into the kitchen. Will, meanwhile, went back to building a fire, able to hear the two elders chuckling.

"Baylee indeed got the short stick," Nori murmured quietly. He let his dice roll across the table. "Eighteen and four. Your roll." He shoved a spoonful of soup in his mouth.

Ori let his spoon hang out of his mouth as he shook up his dice with both hands. Letting them go, he and Nori watched as they rolled across the table, coming to rest near the bread board. "Ten and three," he sighed, pulling the spoon from his mouth.

Dori shook his head, watching as his brothers played their silly dice game. He was halfway through his soup when the door to the common room opened. In came Bofur and Bifur, both looking rather tired. As they trudged over to the table, Dori saw that they were covered from head to foot in various types of dust and both had bits of wood sticking out of their hair.

"You lads look like you had a rough day," he said, frowning.

Bifur nodded, too tired to talk at the moment. Instead, he made various signs with his hands before climbing into his chair. He let his head fall back against the backrest.

"Well, you got t' get the place clean before you can do anythin' else I suppose," Nori said, rolling his dice again. "Ha! Twenty-four an' five! I'm up to thirty-four and nine so far." He plucked up his ale and took a long drink as Ori shook up his dice. "Ori, go order them some lunch," he ordered after they tallied up the younger's points.

"Why me?" he frowned.

"Consider it revenge for wakin' me up and makin' me go with you to the privy last night."

His cheeks turning pink, Ori got up from his spot and hurried towards the kitchen.

"It's comin' along nicely, though," Bofur said, smiling tiredly. His mustache looked grey from all the dust. "We've got all the fallen debris off of the floors an' we've already taken the measurements for the new window. We just need t' find ourselves a carpenter or decent enough woodworker t' help us with that…an' the floors an' doors."

At that, Will cocked his head, unable to help but listen in as he placed some kindling in the coals of the fire.

Bifur raised his hands again, making a few gestures without looking at his companions.

"Aye, an' someone who can make a big enough sheet o' glass. Maybe Master Braddock will know someone…But first comes the wood work. That's the most important bit. Can't have a shop with a door that don't like stayin' shut. An' some o' the second floor floorboards need replacin'." He smiled sheepishly; his foot had fallen through the floor earlier that day.

Dori nodded in agreement. "Aye, you don't want thieves t' get in with ease," he told him, pointing the stem of his pipe at him. "I suggest some nice, heavy oak doors. Maybe even maple."

"I don't meant t' pry, little masters," Will interrupted, "but you said you needed a carpenter?" He stood up, brushing the soot and slivers of wood from his trousers.

Bofur blinked; how had he not seen that giant of a man behind Dori? "You must eat your greens…" he thought aloud, gawking up at Will. Ori came back, returning to his seat. He and Nori resumed eating and their game of dice.

Will laughed, setting his hands on his hips. "Ah, it's just a trait I get from dad," he explained. "So…about this carpenter business…?" He smiled down at them before dragging over a chair. He twirled it around so that it was backwards before sitting down, large forearms resting on the backrest.

Bifur nodded, using his hands to speak. "There's a lot o' work to be done," Bofur translated. "As you probably heard, doors need fixed an' an entire floor should be replaced. Not t' mention, we'll need a new window frame, work tables, display shelves…The lot."

Setting his chin in his palm, he tilted his head curiously. "Just what sort of place did ya buy? If you don't mind me askin', that is."

"They purchased a three story building in the main market district," Dori answered; Bofur and Bifur's lunch had arrived via Demelza. "Their intent is to turn it into a toy shop."

"Oh, a toy shop!" Demelza chirped. "That'll be a lovely addition t' the town." As she spoke, the dwarves noticed that her accent seemed different than Will's and her voice was much richer and deeper than Baylee's. "I know my grandchildren are already in need o' some new toys and they're barely five!" She looked down at Bifur and Bofur, her brow rising slightly as she saw how filthy they were. "Would ya two like me to ready you a bath for after your meal?" she asked.

"That would be lovely," Bofur answered with a tired grin. As she walked off, he looked back at Will. "So. What proof do you have o' your skills, lad?" Leaning forward, he huddled himself around his soup bowl and started to eat almost greedily.

"Well, you're eatin' on one example," the human replied, patting the tabletop. "Parts o' this place are other examples…Let's see…I built the doors," he nodded towards the kitchen, "and those stairs. Also did most o' the framework for the windows and doors on the upper floors. That's about it, really. The rest o' the stuff I've done is sunk with Smaug at the bottom of the Long Lake or having been burnt t' a crisp by that demon, sadly."

Dori cocked his head. "You haven't done any work around the city?" he questioned. He lightly smacked Bifur's hand as the dwarf was trying to eat his soup and his cheese at the same time –a rather difficult task. "Slow down or you'll get a stomachache!" Bifur half-glared at him, but did slow down his eating.

Shaking his head, Will let out a small sigh. "I wish I could say I have, but ever since I got these beauties-" he motioned at his face, "-folk have been a little scared of me. Some friends o' the family hire me once in awhile, but only for minor repairs like a wobbly chair or squeaky door. I've mostly been traveling with the trading caravans of late."

The three nodded in unison as they listened to him. Bofur thought over his words as he ate, letting his eyes wander about. He had already noticed when they arrived that the tables seemed to be of better quality than most inns and that the windows in his and Bifur's room did not rattle or let in the chilly night air –a sign that the building was well-cared for.

"Well then," he declared at long last, looking at Will. He grinned, standing up and leaning over the table as he held out his hand, nearly knocking over his soup. "It'll be a pleasure workin' with you, lad." He could see a glint of excitement come to Will's eyes as he eagerly shook his hand. "I'm Bofur an' this is my cousin, Bifur. I'm afraid he doesn't speak Westron, so if you've any questions, you'll have t' come to me. We'll discuss wages 'n things after Bifur and I have had our bath."

 

Less than an hour later found the cousins in the male bathing room of the inn. It was nestled behind the kitchen and alongside the female bathing room. Curtains hung around the eight tubs, giving them plenty of privacy. Not that the two of them cared; they had bathed often enough around one another. So, they had the curtain separating their tubs thrown back, making for easier conversation.

"The lad seems skilled enough," Bofur was saying as he had his head bent over the water, scrubbing soap into it. He learned a long time ago that it was vital to wash one's hair first, lest the water get too dirty. "After all, our rooms aren't cold at night, even when the fire goes out. Anyway, we both know the only use I can find for wood is for makin' toys. I'm lost on actual carpentry as I'm sure you are, too."

"Gholiz hi hadhidh agrîf atrêv mâ aruk. Zu lûndíz ûrû âcur îzit furkh uzu," Bifur chortled, also scrubbing his hair. His was proving to be a bit more difficult, as he also had a large beard to clean. Unbraiding his beard and mustache proved to be the easiest part; he had a rather wiry beard, so it was no easy task to finger-comb the bits of wood and plaster from it. "Mahih'ala lù ashurtuluk mâ arukh."

Unable to see thanks to the curtain of brunette hair in his face, Bofur blindly reached over the edge of the tub, his hand groping along the floor for the bucket of warm water meant for rinsing. "Seems that way, doesn't it? I guess we just got lucky when Dwalin told us t' come here." He found the rope for the bucket and grabbed it, dragging it over. It was a harder task than one would think; the tubs were human-sized, not dwarven, so he had to reach over quite far. "Dori, Nori, an' Ori asked for help an' they got it. We ask for help an' we get it." He poured the water over his head, but didn't use all of it –he still had to scrub his beard and mustache.

"Mâ furkh yadi agúluk mezer zehe gândadír," Bofur said, grabbing his own bucket and rinsing himself off.

Bofur thought over his words as he leaned against the back of the tub. They would have to stay quite a bit longer than Dori, Nori, and Ori…after all, they were here to make and open a shop, not to meet potential business partners and discuss fair trading amounts. Hard work took time, no matter how many helpers one had. For now, it seemed, they would have to live in the inn.

Of course, they had a home back in Erebor –they had quite the elaborate mansion thanks to their share of the reward for helping reclaim the mountain. It would be such a hassle to walk an hour every morning to come to Dale and work in the shop only to finish a long day of labor and have to walk an hour to get back home. Looking at Bifur, he could tell that his cousin was going through the same thought process; he was muttering under his breath about travel.

"We may just have t' end up livin' here for a few months," he blurted out, starting to rub some soap into his mustache. "Maybe shorter if we could talk some o' our friends into comin' and helpin'…"

Bifur, at this point, was scrubbing between his toes. "Zu dolzhik?" he mumbled. He took a mental note to take the time that evening to trim his toenails; they were getting uncomfortably long. "Fûna achùsho; Bomburme baruf shur hya u'zahar."

"Aye, Bombur will take care of things," he agreed, rinsing his mustache, "but one of us will still have t' go back and let him know what all is goin' on." Though, he was afraid about the amount of food his brother and his family (a beautiful wife and seven children, none of which are over the age of thirty, and an eighth in the oven) would consume from their pantry.

He had spent three days stocking that pantry.

Bombur better not have emptied it yet.

He probably had.

"Tada mak usk," Bifur stated, not noticing the small frown that had come to his cousin's face.

Bofur shook his head, clearing it of thoughts of his brother. "Aye, it makes sense. No one here would be able t' make heads nor tales of what you were sayin'," he laughed. Grabbing a cloth, he started to scrub at the dirt on his arms and legs. His brows furrowed slightly as he looked at his left leg, inspecting the geometric bands of blue ink that encircled his calf. It had once been a rich, deep indigo in color; now it was about the color of a summer sky. "Goin' t' have to get this touched up sometime soon," he muttered to himself.

"Kulhu?"

He held up his leg for his cousin to see, pointing at the faded blue design. "It's faded. I'll need a touch-up on it before it gets any lighter."

Bifur squinted, scrutinizing the tattoo. He knew full well that all male dwarves (and some females) had them; they symbolized what clan they came from, what their jobs were, and even their prowess in battle. Quite a number of them covered his own body, many of them thanks to his forehead accessory, though his favorite was an intricately-patterned star inked around his belly button –it represented the day he found and killed the owner of the axe. "Dwalin ughlekh khi," he replied at last. "Hi ghelekh tázakur."

"Of course he's good at doin' tattoos –he's done most o' his own!" he snorted. "Except the ones on that thick skull o' his. He had t' get Balin to do those ones." He now had his arms raised, inspecting the bands around his upper and lower arms. The inked skin, he saw, was still rather dark –a good thing, too, since those were relatively fresh markings.

"Fi hi burkíl zu, hi khu tazéke zu," mused Bifur. By now, he was scrubbing at his arms, the water around him turning a grayish white in color. He tried to not notice it; the color disturbed him. Of course, he had been dirtier during baths before, but, at least during those, he had been bathing in a river or stream so the water flowed away…not remained around him.

Bofur snickered. "Then it's a good thing he isn't here t' bash my skull in. Don't think he could catch me, though…I'm faster than him." He grinned cheekily at his cousin.

He wore a small smirk as he stole a quick look at the younger dwarf. "Hi nalrîz zu ghebetúl."

The cheeky grin disappeared and he rolled his eyes. "Oh shush, you."


	4. Chapter 4

It was barely sunrise when Ori woke up. Sitting up in his bed, he peered through the darkness, able to see the outlines of his brothers as they slept. Unlike them, he had had trouble sleeping; they would be leaving Dale the next day to go back to Erebor, but he did not want to go. Not yet. Not when he had only seen a small portion of the market and parts of the Full Tankard. There was still so much left to see, left to do…

Slipping out of bed, he did his best to be quiet while getting dressed. Not that he needed to be quiet; when his brothers were in a safe environment, they slept quite heavily. It was as he was scrubbing his face and beard in the water basin, however, that Nori let out a particularly loud snore, startling him and making him knock over the pitcher of water. His eyes widening, he lunged forward, catching it just before it could hit the floor. Looking up, he watched as Nori rolled over, pulling the covers closer to his head. Dori, also, was still asleep.

He put the pitcher back on the table before moving to pull his boots on. After those, he fastened his belt around his waist and crept out of the room. Across the hall, he could hear Bifur's snoring and he chuckled; Bofur was probably having a hard time sleeping. He started to make his way down the hall, his nose picking up the smell of warmed alcohol. Making his way down the stairs, he sniffed the air again, smelling burning wood as well.

Much to Ori's surprise, Bofur was sitting in the common room, a large mug of tea in his hand and his feet propped up on the hearth. His hat was sitting on the table behind. He turned as the last two floorboards creaked under Ori's weight, a smile coming to his lips as he saw the younger dwarf.

"Wouldn't have expected you t' be up yet, lad," he said.

"I wasn't expecting you to be up, either," he admitted. Bofur motioned for him to sit on the chair beside him and he moved to do such. "Was it Bifur's snoring?"

He grinned behind his mug as he took a drink of tea. "You could hear it, could you?" Ori nodded. "No, it wasn't his snorin', though that's what kept me from goin' back to sleep. I had just gone t' bed so early last night, I guess it was time for me t' wake up."

Nodding in understanding, Ori shifted slightly. He hadn't ever really talked to Bofur without his brothers around; he knew he was a nice dwarf, it was just….his brothers normally did all the talking for him. Staring into the fire, he wondered if any of the staff was up yet, only to remember that Bofur was drinking tea, which either meant they were or he had broken into the kitchen.

"What about you, lad?"

"Hm?" He looked up, a slightly startled look on his face.

"Why are you up so early?" Another drink of tea. It wasn't a drink normally on a dwarf's menu, but it was good first thing in the morning.

"Oh…" he turned back towards the fire. "Well…I was hopin' to get some breakfast and go explore the city without my brothers."

Bofur tilted his head curiously. "Why's that?"

Ori shifted again. "Well…All this week, I've been havin' to follow them around and take their notes for them. It's quite boring, really."

He nodded. "Sounds like it. I was never really fond of all that tradin' business." Leaning back in the chair, he tilted his head back, feeling the muscles in his neck and shoulders stretch a bit. "Too much stuff t' keep track of."

"That's why I want t' get out of here before they wake up," Ori sighed. "I'm not interested in all that stuff. I mean, mum and dad had always tried to get me interested in it, t' keep up with the family business, but it was always Dori who was good at it. I'm just good at taking the notes…"

Bofur pointed at the larger of the two books hanging from Ori's belt. "So, I take it you'll plan on addin' a few more drawings to your collection then?" he asked, grinning slightly. He watched Ori's cheeks turn a light shade of pink.

"Maybe," he said, glancing away. His hands unconsciously held onto the book, thumbs running over the parchment pages. "It's fun drawin' things that aren't made by dwarrows. They've got so many different shapes to them. Kind of like drawin' people."

He quietly laughed before taking another drink of tea. "Anythin' else you'll do besides sit 'n draw?"

"Just explore," he replied, starting to lightly kick his feet. "Dale's interestin', especially with its layers."

"Hm? What d'ya mean, layers?" He looked at him curiously, a brow raised.

Ori continued to stare at the fire. "Well, you've got the first layer o' Dale –that's the layer of when it was first built. You see it mostly in the first floors o' the buildings; the white walls, the plaster, the red tiles…Then you've got the second layer. That's the layer that Smaug made when he terrorized the place. Half-destroyed buildings. Ruined pathways. Burnt things. Then there's the last layer, which is everythin' that's been rebuilt."

"Like our shop," Bofur stated before he could stop himself. "Or the Full Tankard."

"Or the market," Ori nodded. "Lots o' parts of the city are still in ruins because of how many lives were lost durin' the War. Not enough people t' fill them."

Bofur looked over at him, studying his face. The lad still stared at the fire, but his head was tilted and he had a sort of dazed look about him. He knew the look. The same look would come to Bifur's face when he was making toys; it also used to come to Thorin's face when he had been imagining their victory in reclaiming Erebor for the dwarves. He smiled fondly at Ori.

"You really enjoy bein' around this different place, don't you?" he asked.

As if realizing that he had been daydreaming, Ori looked down at his feet, his cheeks pink once again. "It's interestin' is all. I mean, we're dwarrows. We grew up with other dwarrows and we learned dwarrow culture. Learnin' about how other races live is jus'…interesting," he muttered.

"I don't blame you," he yawned. He made to take another drink of his tea only to find it gone. Frowning, he sat up. "You hungry, lad?"

"A little bit…"

Bofur stood and motioned for Ori to follow him. The two dwarves walked across the empty common room, towards the kitchen door. Pushing it open, Bofur stuck his head, Ori shoving his head in beneath his chin, and looked around. There were all sorts of shelves and counters in the kitchen, the former being filled to the brim with various sorts of food. Copper pots and iron pans hung from hooks in the ceiling while the larger, more-used pans hung above the hearth. In the center of the kitchen was a long, heavy table. It was at this table Baylee stood, kneading some sort of dough.

"Miss Baylee?" Bofur called. She looked up, some hair falling into her face. "Is it alright if I make myself more tea?"

"Feel free," she smiled. Bofur walked into the kitchen, Ori shyly trailing along behind him. "G'morning, Master Ori! Would you like anythin'?" She paused her kneading and flattened the dough out before spooning some dried fruit into it. Ori walked over and she glanced up, watching as he stood on tiptoe to peek over the jars and bowls in front of her work area.

"What are you makin'?" His head was tilted curiously as he watched her start to knead again.

"Fruit bread," she replied. She plucked up the spoon again and pressed it against the fruit in the bowl. Warm mead filled the spoon and she sprinkled it over the dough as her other hand continued to work. "It's the specialty here."

"It smells good," he told her, "though that could just be the mead." He smiled shyly as he glanced up at her.

She let out a small laugh. "Aye, it does smell good, doesn't it?"

Bofur grabbed a cloth and used it to lift the kettle from the coals. "This whole room smells delicious," he remarked. "If my brother, Bombur, were here, we'd have t' tie him up with chains t' keep him from eatin' everything in here." He poured the hot water into his mug, watching as the tea leaves floated to the top.

"Bombur's always hungry," Ori explained to Baylee.

"He's also about the size o' three of us put together," Bofur chuckled. "Widthwise, that is."

Plucking up the dough, she moved to set it in a clay pan that she had buttered. "He sounds like a fellow who certainly appreciates his food," she joked. Wiping her hands on her apron, she stepped off to the side of a large, metal door. "Lads may want t' back up a few paces; this oven's hot," she gently warned. As they did so, she threw open the door and quickly stepped back just as a wave of heat billowed out. The two dwarves watched as, for just a moment, the hot air made the area in front of the oven dance about.

"Huh. Not many human homes back near the Blue Mountains had ovens," Bofur mumbled.

"Not many here do, either," she answered, putting in two pans of bread. She had six more to put in. "Onl' us inn owners an' the king have them."

"Why the king?" Ori asked. "Does he do a lot of baking?"

Bofur stifled a laugh. "Because he has the money for it," he answered, patting Ori on the shoulder.

"Oh…Well, I'd imagine he does at least some baking of his own. I mean, the oven would go to waste then."

Baylee giggled as she put in the last two pans of bread. "No, Master Ori, he has servants who cook for him. Sort o' like how we cook your food here, only…more kingly, I guess." She closed the oven up, flinching as a part of her arm brushed against the hot metal. 'First burn of the day,' she thought. 'Hope it's the only one…' Turning, she looked down at the two dwarves who were watching her with interest. "So, you lads are hungry an' I'm free t' cook. What do ya want t' eat?"

The two dwarves began listing off the components they wanted in their meal, barely pausing to breathe. The trouble for Baylee, though, was that they were both speaking at the same time, making it more than a little difficult to decipher what they were saying besides the occasional 'Ooh, I'll have one o' that, too!' Chuckling, she held out her hands, bringing an end to their rambling.

"Calm down, lads, calm down," she laughed. "I can barely hear a word either o' you are sayin'. Now, Bofur, you first." Pulling over a stool, she sat down and crossed her arms on her knees, listening.

"I'll have three fried eggs, some bacon, some potatoes, maybe a couple o' biscuits…" he scratched his chin thoughtfully, "and to top it all off, how about a seed cake?"

She nodded slowly, looking at Ori. "And you?"

"A bowl o' porridge, two fried eggs, four sausages, and I'll have a seed cake as well, please." He smiled shyly.

Baylee nodded again and stood up, brushing her apron off. "Alright, though I warn ya –it may take me a bit o' time. Galiene, our cook, normally doesn't get in until the sun's nice 'n fully risen."

Bofur tilted his head, suddenly grinning; Baylee did not know whether this was a good thing or a bad thing. "Oh? Well, in that case, we'll help you!"

She blinked. "Y-you don't have to," she said. "I mean, you're guests here an' it's my job t' cook-"

"Nonsense!" He had already set his tea down and Ori was making for the pans above the fireplace. "You're the only one up, we want a lot o' food; it's the least we could do." He headed over to the pantry door and opened it. He was met by rows of shelves filled with cured, smoked, and salted meats as well as other such items that were needed in a kitchen. "Oh…I think I just found the mother lode." A silly grin was coming to his face.

"Don't stay in there too long!" Ori called, grabbing a coal scraper and using it to bring some red-hot coals under an iron grate. He set a frying pan atop the grate, letting it heat up. "You'll end up like Bombur!"

Baylee heard a laugh from the depths of the pantry and Bofur soon emerged, his arms laden with bacon, ham, potatoes, and ropes of sausage. "No, no –I know how t' treat a pantry!" he was saying as he carried his bounty over to the counter.

"Careful you don't drop the potatoes!" Baylee gently warned. She moved to get a knife so she could peel said spuds, but before she had the chance to go very far, Ori hurried past her, excusing himself. "Do you need me to grab you a pot for the porridge?" she asked, opening a drawer and pulling out a small knife.

"Don't worry, Miss Baylee," Ori smiled. "We've got it."

Bofur crouched down, his hands clasped in front of him, palms up. With a small hop, Ori leapt up (with surprising nimbleness for a dwarf) and, as his foot landed in Bofur's palms, the older dwarf gave him a toss into the air. As he reached the apex of his toss, he smacked the bottom of the largest pot, sending it flying off its hook. Bofur caught him before he could hit the ground and, holding out his hands, Ori grinned as the pot landed neatly in his arms.

"Nice one," is all Baylee could find herself saying. As Ori hurried back across the kitchen, she plucked up a bucket and sat down, intent on peeling the potatoes.

"Knives in this drawer?" Bofur asked, pointing at the drawer she had just opened.

"Aye," she said, starting to peel. She glanced up in time to see him grab their largest knife –a meat cleaver. "O-oh, that may be a bit too big, Bofur."

He shook his head, still wearing a grin. "It's just the right size." He made quick work of separating out four links of sausages and started to cut them into small rounds. "Ori!"

The younger dwarf quickly used the end of his tunic to grab the handle of the frying pan. He turned around just in time to catch all but two of the sausage rounds; they sizzled loudly as they hit the hot metal. The other two pieces landed on the floor at his feet and he picked them up after putting the pan back on the grate. Seeing that they had only the tiniest bit of dirt on them, he blew the specks off and added them back in. He grabbed a second pan, setting it over the grate as well.

"Is this how dwarves normally cook?" Baylee asked, working on her second potato.

"Hm?" Bofur glanced up at her. "What do you mean?"

She motioned at the two of them. "Hurrying about, tossing things through the air an' catchin' them. That sort of thing. Is that how you always do it?" Looking back down, she carved out a brown spot on the potato's surface.

He shrugged, slicing himself up some bacon. "Aye, I guess so," he chuckled. "I guess it helps get things done quicker. Ori, bacon!" He slid the slices of bacon onto the flat of the cleaver before flinging them across the room.

"I need a spatula, too!" He held up the second pan, catching the wad of bacon. Setting it back down, he used his fingers to separate out the pieces.

Bofur stood on his tiptoes, reaching over and sorting through various utensils that were in a jar. "Wood work?"

"Yes."

"Catch!" He tossed over a wooden spatula and Ori caught it, stirring the meats.

Laughing, Baylee stood up and set the potatoes on the counter. "See, there ya go with tossing things again!"

He beamed up at her. "A lot faster than walkin' it over to him, isn't it?" he joked. He watched as a bit of color came to her cheeks when she smiled back; probably from the heat of the kitchen, he supposed. It was getting rather warm. "I'll cut up the potatoes. Why don't you start on the porridge?" Before she could refuse his offer, he took the potatoes from her and shooed her off.

It was the sight of Bofur tossing eggs over to Ori while Baylee stirred a bubbling pot of porridge that Will walked in on. He blinked, having to rub his eyes to make sure he wasn't seeing things; he wasn't. Baylee turned and, spotting him, gave him a small wave.

"Morning, Will," she chirped. "You hungry?"

He watched as Ori slid some pieces of crispy sausage onto a plate before pouring cubs of potato into the same pan. "Er…Yes, I am," he said. "Baylee, quick question."

"There are dwarves in our kitchen because they're helpin' me cook," she answered, as if reading his mind. "Let me guess, you want yourself a nice big bowl o' porridge an' three fried eggs on top?"

Will frowned. "How did you know?"

"One, you're my brother an' I know what you like. Two, you're starin' at the eggs Ori's fryin' up." Ori glanced up, his cheeks red from the heat of the fire. He gave Will a shy wave before moving to carefully put the finished eggs on a different plate.

"Have you even eaten?" He sniffed the air and wandered over to the oven. Opening the latch, he peeked in. "These are almost done, 'Lee."

She sprinted over, shoving a wooden spoon in his hand before pushing him towards the porridge. Opening the oven door, she ducked as a wave of heat came out. William shook his head, moving to stir the porridge.

"That'll be a no then," he murmured. He tilted his head; the porridge seemed to be missing something, but he wasn't sure what. Looking up at Ori, he smiled tiredly. "So, what brings you two lil' masters into our humble kitchen this early in the morning?"

"Well," began Ori, "we like a lot o' food with our breakfast and since Miss Baylee is only one person, we decided to help her out." He cracked a few extra eggs into the pan as Bofur came over. "That one there," he quietly told him, pointing at the empty pan.

"How much bacon do you think she likes?" he asked, his voice also quiet.

Ori glanced over his shoulder at the young woman. "Hmm…Five? She's always runnin' around this place; she could use the extra food."

Bofur nodded in agreement, laying the slices of bacon in the bottom of the pan. "Egg's ready to flip," he murmured, pointing.

"Oh, thank you." He moved to flip the eggs, being careful to not break the yolk.

William raised his brow as he watched the two. While he couldn't hear them, he knew they were up to something. Just what, though, he couldn't tell. Through the racket going on, the sound of a key in a lock went unheard, so when the back door opened and Galiene and her nephew, Gawen, stepped in, everyone was more than a little surprised –including the two walking in.

"What's all this goin' on in my kitchen?" she demanded, hands moving to her hips.

Almost instantly, Will pointed accusingly at Baylee, earning an 'Oi!' in protest. "All her! Not me! I'm just stirrin' the porridge!"

Baylee rolled her eyes. "We're not ten anymore, fish brains." She smiled apologetically at the cook as she pulled the last two loaves of bread out of the oven. "I got some help makin' breakfast is all. Don't worry; we're almost done."

"Actually, we are done," Ori beamed.

Turning around, she saw the two dwarves setting their food onto platters. They had even cleaned up their work area, leaving her rather surprised. Galiene, too, seemed impressed that none of the cooking implements had been damaged.

"And we also made up your and Will's breakfast," Bofur said, walking over a plate of eggs, bacon, and seed cake to her. "Don't want you two goin' hungry, after all. Especially if he's-" he pointed his thumb at William, "-is goin' to be helping me an' Bifur all day."

Once more, Baylee's cheeks darkened as she took the plate from him. "Th-thank you," she smiled.

"You're welcome, Miss Baylee," he said with a grin before following Ori out of the kitchen, making sure to grab his tea.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was noon and the sky was overcast, with the clouds threatening to release the rain they had built up. Ignoring this, Ori was sitting on a bit of rubble in one of the unrepaired districts of the city, his sketchbook propped open on his legs. He glanced up, checking the angle on the half-destroyed well in front of him. Translating it onto the page, he grinned, adding in a few more small details. Leaning back, he looked between his drawing and the well many times before deciding that he had added enough details to make it recognizable. Smiling proudly, he tucked his pencil into the crease of the book and closed it, wrapping it tightly before once more tucking it into his belt.

'That was a good warm up,' he thought to himself. Sliding off of the short wall, he looked around. There was no one around, leaving him quite alone. 'This is rather nice,' he thought. 'No Nori or Dori around to boss me about or to tell me to pull my hood up…' He started down the street, feeling rather independent and proud of himself.

As he walked, he reached out, letting his hand trail against the walls of buildings. The white stone was long faded to yellow and light brown. In some places, huge clouds of black marred their surface, their doors and windows charred. He frowned, knowing full well that the marks had been the work of Smaug years and years ago. Pulling his hand back, he looked at his fingertips, finding them light grey with soot.

'Still dirty after all the years of rain and sun?' he thought, rubbing his fingers together. He brushed them off on his jacket. 'Curious. When folk come to live here again, they'll need to scrub the walls before painting them…'

After walking down a few streets, he found himself in the main square of Dale. Here was a wide, open area filled with people. Children were running about, playing, while their parents or older siblings sat around the large fountain in the center of the square. Ori had seen this fountain a few times over the last couple of days, but he had never gotten the chance to see it up close. A small grin came to his face and he started to make his way through the crowds of people, doing his best to be polite when needing to push past someone.

At last, he came to the fountain. He stared up in wonder; he could tell it was most definitely crafted by dwarves. Humans, he knew, could make fountains, but nothing of this sort. For one, this fountain had no seams, meaning it was carved out of a single piece of marble. Secondly, it had been fashioned into the shape of a great warrior, his cloak wafting behind him. So perfect was the craftsmanship, Ori thought that the warrior would spring to life at any second.

He sat down on its edge, pulling out his sketchbook.

Ori did not know how long he sat there, but by the time his back started to ache, it was well into the afternoon and he had drawn the entirety of the fountain. He looked around, his cheeks red as he realized that a few humans –both adult and children- and some fellow dwarves were watching him, intrigued by how absorbed he had gotten in the drawing.

"That's good drawing you've got there, little master," an older man complimented. "You've got an eye for detail, though I suppose most dwarves do."

His cheeks still red, Ori managed a shy smile. "Thank you, sir," he said. He glanced down at his hand, finding the side of his left hand covered in grey dust; one of the problems of being left handed.

"Have ya gone to the old bell tower?" he asked. "I'm sure you'd enjoy the view. Y'can see the whole city from up there, as well as Erebor. Quite pretty, really, even with all the ruins."

Ori curiously tilted his head. "Where is the bell tower?" he asked, closing the sketchbook up and putting it away.

The old man used a walking staff to point towards the western part of town. "That tall tower there, near the gate. It's a bit o' a climb, but very much worth it."  
He nodded in understanding. "I think I'll go there after I have a spot o' lunch. Thank you." The old man  
nodded, wishing him a good day before the dwarf wandered off. As he came near the edge of the square, he saw the building that Bifur and Bofur had bought and, for a moment, wondered if he should go in. However, a loud crash of wood followed by something being called in Khuzdul made him change his mind.

'They've got that big lad in there helping them,' he thought, hurrying past. Coming into the market, he was met by all sorts of different sights and smells. His stomach grumbled loudly, startling him. 'I guess I should buy something to eat…'

After some exploration, he found himself munching on a meat pie with three more tucked away in his pocket. He had found it curious that the human markets had people wandering about, offering free samples of food from various vendors. In dwarvish custom, people only gave out free food if they were extremely rich and had uneaten food ready to spoil. The food he also found curious; the meat pies he had bought would normally be found in the pockets of miners, not ordinary folk.

He was in rather good spirits as he came to the edge of town, finding the bell tower before him. It was different from the rest of Dale, in that it was circular and had stairs carved into its outer wall. The bell, from what he saw, was supported by a landing at the very top of the building. No wall hid the bell or the landing above it, allowing its tolling to be heard for miles around should the need arise.

'That's a lot of stairs,' he thought, looking up. 'Nothing I can't handle.' Pulling out his second pie, he started to both eat and climb. By the time he reached the top, all his pies were gone and he felt a bit breathless; the steps were steep, making it hard to eat and walk at the same time. But he felt truly breathless when he walked to one of the wooden railings and, standing on his tiptoes, peered over the edge.

"Now that's a sight for sore eyes," he mumbled to himself, his eyes wide in awe.

The old man had been right –he could see the entire city and the lands surrounding it, including his hard-won home of Erebor. The clouds above parted, letting sun bathe the land in its warm light and giving everything a cheery, yellow glow. He was just about to pull out his sketchbook and start drawing for the third time that day, but something nearing the wall of the city caught his eye. Hoisting himself up a bit more, he peered down at the road and squinted. There was a large group of people coming up to the western gate –at least fifty of them, more than half on horses.

"Elves," he murmured, somewhat distastefully.

He knew full well that the elves were friendly –for the most part. But little love was shared between dwarves and elves and even now, Ori felt wary about the elves coming in to Dale, despite their help during the War. Though, he had to admit one thing –they were decent enough folk.

Elrond had put up with their shenanigans in Rivendell.

Thranduil had laid Orcrist on Thorin's breast when he was laid to rest.

A small frown came to his features as he turned his gaze towards the mountain. It stood tall and mighty, an impenetrable fortress that took centuries to carve –and yet, it still held fast, even with the havoc Smaug had wrecked inside. But over the last five years, it had been cleaned up and made livable. Dwarves had returned to their ancestral homes and, for them, it was a comfortable place to live.

Shaking his head to clearing it of any thoughts, he finally pulled out his sketchbook and started to draw.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The Full Tankard was crowded.

A group of fifteen elves, remembering the good food and drink of the inn from before the War had stopped in to pay their patronage for the night. As such, many humans had flocked to the inn's common room so that they could eat, drink, and be merry with the fair folk. And eating and drinking they were: Galiene had to pull Warren and Gawen in from the stables while Wenna, Baylee, Demelza, and Peter (another lad who normally worked in the stables) hurried about, delivering food and refilling drinks.

"This is crazy," Galiene said as Baylee and Wenna came in, trays laden with dirty dishes. She was chopping up an onion. "I don't remember the last time our inn was this full!" Scooping the diced onion up, she carried it over to a heated pan and dumped it in. Even with the doors closed, the music and loud laughter from the common room was able to fill the kitchen up.

"It's like they don't have an end to their stomachs," Wenna panted, leaning against the counter. This was her first time having experienced such a crowd; she had only been hired a year ago. "They keep orderin' more 'n more!"

Baylee grabbed some freshly-washed bowls from Gawen. The poor lad was doing his best to keep up. "So long as they don't throw up on us, that's just fine by me." She blew her bangs out of her face before filling the bowls with rabbit stew. "How're the chickens comin'?"

"Almost ready," Warren replied. "An' the sucklin' pig is just about done, too. Its skin needs t' crisp up a bit more."

Wenna raised her brow. "Who ordered the pig?"

"The dwarf lads," Baylee answered, putting the stew bowls on her platter. "The elves have the four chickens an' two plates o' sausages."

Wenna nodded, moving to fill a bowl with salad greens. "An' eight potatoes, three loaves o' bread, stewed vegetables, two blocks o' cheese, an', to top it all off, biscuits!" she added. "I thought elves were supposed to be delicate?"

At her comment, the other four let out loud laughs.

"These elves are from the court o' King Thranduil," Warren grinned. He looked somewhat menacing as he spoke, for he was holding the meat cleaver and butchering some steaks to be cooked.

"They're anythin' but delicate," Baylee told her.

She frowned, looking at the two of them in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"They love their drink and fun." Galiene took the bowl from her and sprinkled some sliced celery root into it. "Imagine the dwarves, only…cleaner."

Baylee pouted. "The lads are fairly clean! Aye, they make a mess while eatin', but they clean it up." She grabbed a loaf of bread from the shelf only to find that it was still piping. She winced, but ignored the pain as she added it to her platter along with a block of cheese and a small knife. Plucking the platter up, she hurried out of the door and back into the loud common room.

Weaving her way around the tables and half-intoxicated men and women, she was finally able to deliver the bread to a table where some young women were sitting –right next to the table of elves. They were giggling flirtatiously as a few of the elven men spoke with them. As Baylee put the bread and cheese down, one of the elves –a female who wore a captain's crest around her neck- set her hand on her shoulder.

She smiled apologetically. "Lady Baylee, I'm in need of a refill," she said, having to raise her voice to be heard over the music. She held up an empty wine chalice.

Baylee smiled, taking the cup from her. "Alright. I'll have it t' ya in just a moment." Tucking the platter under her arm, she wormed her way back through the crowd to the bar. There was Peter, doing his best to fill up mugs so that they wouldn't be half-full of foam.

"Tilt the mug jus' a wee bit more," she told him, moving towards a wine barrel. As the wine started to flow from the tap, Demelza appeared, more empty mugs and goblets in her arms. "Let me guess…the elves?"

She nodded. "An' more are comin'. The whole table was out."

A hand going to her hip, Baylee shoved some hair from her face and let out a heavy sigh. "Alright. Get me another platter."

Peter frowned, glancing back at her and watching as she twisted her braid around the top of her head. "What? What d'you mean, get you another platter?"

"Just that," she told him. "As crazy as this place is right now, I can't waste time goin' back 'n forth two or three times t' just one table." She started to fill the mugs -some with wine, others with mead, and still more with beer. Peter ran off with his single mug before returning to help her fill up the rest.

Demelza shook her head. "You'll spill 'em all, 'Lee," she murmured, moving to find a third platter. By the time she got back, Baylee was filling her last mug with some beer. She didn't have time to stop long, though, because Warren shouted for someone to come 'get these chickens before I eat 'em all!'.

Baylee lined up the three platters, doing her best to evenly distribute the fifteen drinking vessels amongst them. Peter lifted the lightest platter, carefully balancing it atop her head as she stood up as straight as she could.

"Are you sure about this?" He nervously placed the other two trays on her palms.

"I've done it before."

"With bread 'n cheese, not full glasses o' drink."

She managed a confident grin. "What, you don't have faith in me?"

His brow rose. "Not entirely."

Smirking, she started to walk. The tray atop her head wobbled, but was kept in place by her braid. She bit her tongue, her eyes glancing up at it as took a few more steps forward.

It was as she came out from behind the bar that Bofur saw her. He could barely see her through the crowd (after all, they were both shorter than most everyone there), but her yellow and green dress stuck out through all the darker, earthier colors that the human patrons wore. His head cocked to the side, amazed that she could do such a feat. Her path, he saw, was blocked by some man tilting his chair back for no apparent reason and another bloke scooting his chair back for more leg room. He frowned; didn't they see Baylee?

Scrambling onto his chair and drawing confused looks from his companions and the nearby humans, Bofur cupped his hands over his mouth. Taking a deep breath, he shouted above the roar of the crowd:

"GET OUT O' HER WAY!"

The music faltered for a minute, the musicians startled by how loud a single dwarf could be. Those who had stood in Baylee's path suddenly took notice of her and apologized, quickly clearing off and letting her pass by. As she made it to the elven group, a loud cheer went up and the music started again; she hadn't spilled a drop of alcohol. Sorting out the drinks for the elves, she tiredly smiled as they congratulated her on her balancing skills and thanked her for the drinks. She could only nod in reply.

Pulling away from the elves, she went to the dwarves, finding that their roast pig and other food had arrived. Ori, she saw, was still missing, but the rest did not seem terribly worried over his whereabouts. Setting her hand on Bofur's shoulder, she leaned down next to him so he could hear her.

"What's your favorite breakfast?" she asked. She could see bits of wood and plaster in his hair and beard, but he was not nearly as dirty has he had been two days ago.

He looked at her, a bit taken aback. "Pardon me?" he asked, his hand half-way between his place and the pig's left hind leg.

"What's your favorite breakfast, lad?" she asked again, smiling. "After what ya did, I'm goin' t' make sure ya get it in the mornin'."

He blinked, a large grin slowly coming across his lips. "Well, one can't argue with food…" he joked. "Toast, ham, some fried eggs, bacon, biscuits with sausage gravy, 'n some blackberry jam."

She nodded, committing it to memory. "Got it. Whenever ya get up in the mornin', I'll be sure t' get it whipped up for you." She stood upright again. "Anythin' else you lads are needin'?"

Dori shook his head, smiling up at her. Past the smile, though, she could tell he was a little nervous; probably Ori's whereabouts. "We're good for now, Miss Baylee," he told her. He glanced past her, the smile failing slightly at the elves. "Though, if you happen to spot Ori, you may want to tell him that he'll be in for the scoldin' of his life."

She let out a small, somewhat nervous, laugh, nodding in understanding. "Aye, I'll be sure t' warn him." She headed back into the kitchen, her three trays tucked under her arm. "How're things back here?"

"Finally at a slower pace," her father answered. He wiped some sweat from his brow with the hem of his shirt, leaning against the counter. "They're startin' t' get full."

"Good," she yawned. "D'ya think it's slow enough for me t' get a few minutes o' fresh air?"

Warren glanced over at Galiene, who had started helping Gawen with the dishes. She nodded. "She's been workin' since this morning," Galiene told him. "Give her a break. Actually, give them all a break. If anyone needs anythin', they know where the kitchen is."

He grinned, nodding. "You heard her, 'Lee. Go get some fresh air."

Thanking the two of them, she went out the back door and was greeted by cool night air. Goosebumps covered her skin as she shivered, but the cold was welcomed; it was starting to become stuffy inside. Sighing, she crossed the yard and leaned against the forge wall.

"I told you! I don't have any money! Even if I did, I wouldn't be givin' it to nasty people like you!"

"Here that, blokes? 'E called us nasty!"

Baylee frowned, hearing two or three different laughs. 'What in the world?' she thought. As quietly as she could, she crept around the side of the building, her body pressed against the wall.. Peeking around the corner, she could see three boys, all in their mid teens, huddled around Ori, who was pinned to the ground against the wall by the oldest boy.

"What's this, eh?" The boy snatched a book from Ori's hands and haphazardly opened it. "Looks like this fella fancies himself a bit o' an artist, 'e does!" He snickered, tossing the book to one of his friends, ignoring Ori's plea to give it back.

"Frederick Potts!" Baylee came out from behind the corner, startling the group of boys. Storming over to them, she grabbed their leader by the ear, painfully twisting it. The others started to run, but she grabbed the back of one of their shirts. She did not care that both were taller than her; they were as skinny as twigs, leaving her with some advantage over them. "Bartholomew Twain…why, when your parents hear that you've been harassin' our customers again –an' a noble dwarf for tha' matter!- they are goin' t' give you the whallopin' o' your lives!" she snapped, her eyes narrowed.

The two struggled against her, cursing and trying to smack her away from them. "We was only havin' some fun!" Frederick cried. "We didn't mean no harm!"

"Fun for you maybe!" Ori argued. He crawled forward, grabbing his fallen sketchbook. "And you did too mean to harm me. You had told that one to get ready for a fight!"

Bartholomew grunted, squirming still. "We wasn't really going to fight you!"

"A likely story," Baylee snapped. "Y'know, both your fathers are in that common room an' they're feelin' mighty spirited tonight!" She shoved them to the ground, glaring at them. "So you best get runnin' home before I tell them what just happened. Oh, it'll be hell for the two o' you when they hear!" She smirked as the two teens took off at a dead run down the street.

Ori clutched his sketchbook to his chest, his cheeks red from embarrassment. "Th-thank you, Miss Baylee," he told her, looking at the ground. He felt silly for being unable to defend himself against three boys; after all, he could have probably taken them out rather easily. He probably weighed as much as the three of them put together.

She knelt down, her hand on his shoulder. "Are you hurt?" she quietly asked, a look of concern on her face. He shook his head. "Pride just dented a wee bit?" He nodded and she smiled reassuringly. "Don't you worry about it. I catch those idiots at least twice a month tryin' to harass our customers, so you're by far not the first an' certainly aren't the last, even with the trouble they'll be in."

He managed a smile as he glanced up at her. "Still…thank you."

"It's no trouble," she assured him. She tilted her head, able to see black smudges all over his nose and cheeks. "What's that you've got all over your face?" Out of habit, she plucked up the hem of her skirt and started trying to wipe it away.

"Oh…it's probably just lead," he answered. "I was drawing all day. It gets all over my hand because I'm a leftie."

She nodded in understanding, finding it futile to try wiping it away in the dark. "Well then, let's get you inside an' cleaned up." As she stood, she offered him a hand up. "Though, I warn ya: From what I hear, you're t' be expectin' quite a scoldin' from your brothers for bein' gone so long." She led him into the inn yard.

"I don't doubt it," he sighed. "They don't like it when I go off on my own, but hearing them talk business for four days straight just got so boring." He tilted his head, able to hear the music inside. "It sounds busy in there."

"Oh, it has been. A group o' elves came in and ever since then, we've been at maximum capacity, I'm sure."

He paused. "Elves?"

She looked back at him. "Aye, elves. They like t' visit us sometimes; we get their favorite wine."

He glanced away, rubbing the back of his neck. "Have my brothers caused any…trouble with them at all?" Peeking back at her, he bit his lower lip.

Baylee shook her hair. "No, they haven't. An' if they tried, well…Papa an' Will would stop 'em, I'm sure."

He nodded, starting to follow her again. "Good. We're supposed to be at peace with them, even if we don't like 'em much…wouldn't be good to stir up trouble."

She led him over to the well, pulling up a bucket of water. "If anythin', it's the humans stirrin' trouble. They keep drinkin' more 'n more, tryin' t' keep up with the elves an' failing. Of course, your brothers an' Bifur an' Bofur have already surpassed the elves with their drinkin'." She sat him down on the edge of the well and started to properly clean off his face, once more using the hem of her skirt.

"Humans can't really hold their liquor. No offense, Miss Baylee."

A laugh left her mouth. "None taken. I can onl' have two mugs o' beer before I start wobbling about." She was surprised at how easily the lead came off of his skin; she barely had to rub the cloth to get it off.

"I don't suppose you do much drinking, though. You're always running around, serving others." He scrunched his nose up slightly as she cleaned off the tip of his nose. "That doesn't leave you much time t' relax."

She nodded, wringing the bit of her skirt out and letting it fall back to the ground. "That is true. It'd be nice t' have more help on nights like this; we had to pull in our stable hands to help. But, most nights we're not terribly busy. Twenty, thirty people at the most…"

He cocked his head, watching as she sent the bucket of water back down into the well. "How often do you have nights this crowded?"

"Oh, maybe two, three times a month? Rarely this crowded, though. This many people only come when we've elves as our guests." They both jumped as a roar erupted inside the inn. "Uh oh…best go see what's going on…"

Ori followed just a few steps behind her as she hurried into the kitchen. As they came out into the common room, they found some men and elves pushing tables off to the sides of the room. Poking his head from behind her, Ori could see his companions and brothers near the fire, Bifur with a clarinet in hand while Nori and Dori had flutes; Bofur was chatting happily with them as he drank from a mug. Ori could also see the elves grinning, a few of them producing harps and flutes of their own.

"You best go eat somethin' before that table is cleared off," Baylee told him, pointing at the dwarf's table. "Looks like they left ya a nice helpin' o' food." She smiled as Ori hurried off, dashing across the common room so he wouldn't get trapped. Someone set their hand on her shoulder and she looked up, seeing her brother. "There ya are. Where've you been all night?"

"Bathin'," he chuckled. "Looks like I got out just in time, though. I love a good party."

She shook her head, laughing. "O' course you do. You're one o' the best dancers in the city."

"Well, mum an' dad did teach us well," he grinned, leaning on her shoulder.

"Us?" she asked, cocking a brow. "No, no –you got all o' the dancin' skills, lad."

"You're a rather fair dancer yourself," he grinned. He gaze returned to the crowd.

The dwarves started stamping their feet on the floor rhythmically. There was a light drumming noise, like cutlery on plates, and the three dwarves began playing a fast, lighthearted tune. The elves soon joined in, their music beckoning people to start dancing.

Grinning, Will scooped up his sister and, with a small yelp from her, pulled her onto the dance floor. It was an amusing sight, since Baylee was so small compared to him, but as the two of them twirled about the room, more folk joined in. Soon enough, almost everyone in the inn was dancing about, switching their partners or twirling them around when the songs called for it. It would be a night that many would remember for quite some time.

That is, if they were sober enough to remember it.


	5. Chapter 5

"No. Absolutely not."

"But why not? I'm nearly seventy; I'm old enough to go out on my own!"

"Oh, no you're not! Do you know how dangerous it is out there? You can't go until you're eighty at the least!"

"But Nori went out an' started adventuring when he was forty! I'm just goin' to be stayin' here in Dale! How dangerous can that possibly be?"

"Plenty, if you're not street smart."

"And how am I supposed t' get street smart if I'm never left alone to learn?"

Nori looked between his brothers as they argued. Across from him, Dori was fuming as he stared at Ori, who had a surprisingly defiant look on his face. "I'm on Ori's side," he said at last, going back to eating his eggs.

Dori looked at him, aghast. "Bu-but he's too young, Nori!" he cried. "The lad hardly remembers to grab his hood before he heads outside, let alone knows how to take care of himself!"

Nori rolled his eyes, sighing. "Like he said, he's nearly seventy. He's not a young whelp anymore. The lad can handle his own."

"You're only saying that because you went out when you were just forty. Why your father let you do that, I'll never know, because mine certainly wouldn't have…"

Nori sighed, shoving a piece of toast into Dori's mouth, both startling him and quieting him up. "Ori was a part of Thorin's company, just like you 'n me. Not only that, but he fought valiantly against our enemies in the War. All of those, in my eyes, make him an adult." He took a drink of his ale, noticing the somewhat defeated look coming to Dori's face as he ate the toast. "Give him a chance, Dori. Bifur and Bofur are here anyway. They can help keep an eye on him."

"See?" Ori chirped. "If'n Nori of all people thinks I'm ready, then I'm ready!"

Rubbing his forehead, Dori stabbed at his gravy-slathered biscuits. "Why couldn't you have brought this up sooner?" he grumbled. "Then we could have made some sort of arrangement so you at least have a place to stay!"

"I can stay here still, in Bifur and Bofur's room," Ori replied. "They've got three beds; I'm sure they wouldn't mind if'n I asked."

"You'll need more money."

"I've only spent two silvers out o' the bag you gave me." He wore a smug grin. "If I spend it wisely, I'll have more than enough t' last me the two weeks I want to stay here." He tossed some fried potatoes into his mouth.

Dori shook his head, cursing under his breath. "Fine," he said after many minutes. "Fine! But you best be on your best behavior. And make sure to wear your hood when you go out; it's still early spring. And if we hear from Bifur or Bofur that you've been up to anything unpleasant-"

"Dori…" Nori gave him a long look as he chewed a piece of toast.

"What?"

He took another bite, this time out of a sausage. "You're doing it again."

The eldest brother frowned, paying no heed as Ori reached over, stealing some of his gravy for his potatoes. "Doing what again?"

"Mothering him."

"I am not mothering him."

"You are too mothering him."

"I am not!"

Nori smirked and started to make a clucking noise like a chicken. Tucking his hands into his arm pits, he waved his arms about as if they were wings and bobbed his head, 'bocking' now. With his rather pointed hair, the chicken-like effect was rather comical. "Ori! Don't do this! Ori! Don't do that!" he 'squawked'. "Ori, put your hood up!"

Dori rolled his eyes and thwacked him over the head; Ori was doing his best to not choke on his food as he laughed. "Oh, stop it! You're making yourself look like an idiot." Nori was, in fact, drawing some looks from the other patrons –namely, the elves who had spent the night. "I already said he could stay. End of discussion."

Ori was beaming as he took a rather victorious gulp from his beer. Of course, the broad smile led to a bit of alcohol dribbling down his chin. Dori instinctively grabbed his napkin and moved to wipe it away, but, seeing the smirk on Nori's lips, he quickly sat back down, pouting at his biscuits and wondering why he had less gravy than three minutes ago.

Meanwhile, Bofur was sitting in the kitchen, watching as Baylee cooked his breakfast. It had been an early morning for him once again; the sun was only just barely peeking over the horizon. After the party the previous night, it was a wonder he was awake at all; he was sure he had at least four mugs of ale. Then again, it was a wonder anyone was awake at this time –except the elves. They never really needed rest.

He took a sip of his tea, his head tilted as he watched Baylee disappear into the pantry for a few minutes. When she came out, she had an uncut leg of smoked ham and a large brick of bacon in her arms. The ham was so large, he was sure the pig it had come from had been big enough to ride into battle.

"Are you positive you don't need any help?" he asked.

"I'm sure," she replied, shoving some hair out of her face. "But if it makes ya feel better, the gravy could use stirrin'." She held a hand to her mouth as she yawned, shaking her head slightly afterwards. "Did ya enjoy the spur-of-the-moment party last night?" she asked, glancing at him as he went over to the fireplace.

He grinned, nodding heartily. "Of course! Can't say I was expecting it; I didn't know elves could be so playful." He had noticed that her eyes were rather red, like she had been crying…yet, she had been all smiles just like every other morning this week. 'Maybe she had gotten smoke in her eyes is all,' he thought. 'After all, making fires means getting smoke in the eyes…'

"Oh, there's almost always some sort o' party happenin' when they come into town." She fetched herself a knife from the drawer.

His head tilted curiously. "Really?" When she wasn't looking, he lifted the spoon and swiped his finger through the gravy, tasting it. Hm. It needed pepper. "I knew they liked t' drink a lot, but not party…"

Laughing, she lightly shrugged. "Normally, drinking an' partying go hand'n'hand." She held up about four thick slices of meat. "Is this good?"

"Aye," he grinned. It was probably more than enough, but what did it matter? Bifur or Nori would steal some anyway. "So, is that three-platter trick o' yours reserved for party nights only?" he asked jokingly.

Her cheeks turned pink and she started to slice the bacon. "No, I do it sometimes when Wenna or Demelza are out sick. Normally, it's with light loads, though –bread, cheese, a salad here or there. Last night was the first time I've tried it with drinks."

Bofur slowly nodded, taking another drink of his mug. He noticed that the table came up to about her waist; on other humans, it'd be at their hips. 'Then again,' he told himself, 'she is kind of small for a human. But strong. Wonder if she's got dwarf in her?' That he doubted; there were only a handful of dwarf-human relationships recorded throughout dwarvish history. Human women simply weren't hardy enough for the tastes of most males.

"So there was a high chance of disaster last night if I hadn't gotten the path t' clear for you?" he asked, grinning. She nodded, walking over with the slabs of meat. "Does that make me a bit o' a hero, then?"

His words earned another giggle as she set a skillet over the coals, next to his pot of gravy. "Aye, I guess it does." Laying out the slices of bacon, she was forced to use another pan for the ham, having to scrape more coals out of the fire and under the grate. "Sir Bofur o' the Full Tankard," she teased, "Clearer o' Floors."

"Ooh, catchy title!" he grinned. "May have t' use that somewhere in the sign for our shop." He stirred the gravy again. "Do you think this needs pepper?"

She ran her finger over the back of the spoon as he held it up. Tasting it, she raised her brow. "Aye, it does, but it should get that pepper when the sausage is added. Speakin' of which…" Hurrying across the kitchen, she grabbed a set of two bowls, one of which held the sausage she had cooked earlier.

"That's an interesting device," Bofur commented, watching as she lifted the smaller bowl and dumped the meat into the gravy. The smaller bowl had many little holes poked through it while the larger one held all the grease and fat that the sausage had cooked in. "Who came up with that?" He stirred the gravy around, making sure to get the sausage well incorporated.

Pouring the liquid fat into the waste bucket, she shrugged. "I'm not sure, honestly. I know papa made it, but he says it wasn't his idea. Mighty handy, though." They paused, hearing a clucking noise coming from the common room. Her brow rose as she poked at the meat. "Did…someone let a chicken loose…?"

Bofur shook his head, knowing the sound well enough. "That'll be Nori. He does that when Dori tries t' mother Ori," he explained, leaning against the bricks. "I'm guessin' Ori finally told them he wants to stay here," he thought aloud.

"Ori wants to stay here?" she repeated. "Why's that?"

"He likes Dale. Says it's a lot more interesting than Erebor. Can't blame him much for thinkin' so; the lad's never been around so many humans for so long. He has Dori to thank for that." He finished his tea.

She nodded in understanding. 'He didn't tell them about last night then,' she thought. 'Or else they would have never let him stay…' Stepping away from the fire, sigh fanned herself off with her hand. "Well, he's not too young, is he? I mean, he can't be younger 'n sixty?"

"I think he's about sixty-seven or thereabouts," he nodded. "He was the youngest in the company, too. Don't know how Dori let him come with us; probably thought Ori's dad wasn't able to take good enough care of him…"

She gave him a curious look. "Company?"

"Oh, aye, we all were part o' the Company o' Thorin Oakenshield," he explained. He didn't seem to mind the shocked look she was giving him. "Thirteen o' us there were. Well, fourteen includin' Mr. Baggins, our burglar, but he wasn't a dwarf. Nope. He was a hobbit." A fond, reminiscent smile came to his lips as he remembered all of his companions. Some of them returned to the Blue Mountains after the war had been won and it had been a long while since he had seen them.

Baylee watched him for a moment as he spaced out into his thoughts. She flipped over the bacon and ham, moving to grab a plate and some eggs. "I never expected t' be servin' some of Thorin's companions," she said at last.

"Hm?" He shook his head, braids and mustache bouncing slightly. "Why's that?"

"Well, I always thought you lot were high rankin' nobles an' knights or somethin'. After all, no one ever imagines ordinary folk being able t' reclaim entire kingdoms."

He smiled at her as she plated the meat. "But it's those folk who make the best stories, isn't it?" A quiet laugh left his mouth and he stirred the gravy before tasting it again. "Ah, there we go. Perfect amount o' pepper now." He offered her the spoon.

As she ran her finger through the gravy again, Will stepped in. His brow rose as he saw the two by the hearth and he quietly moved to get himself some tea. "Y'know, Baylee," he suddenly said, making her jump, "we're supposed t' cater to the customers, not let them help."

"Oh, like you tend t' the customers anyway," she lightly teased, cracking an egg into the hot bacon fat. "Bofur's just providin' me with some company while I make him breakfast. Be a lad an' get me some blackberry jam from the cellar, will you?" She cracked two more eggs into the pan.

"Company, huh? Dori, Nori, an' Ori too busy eating to talk to you?" he joked, kneeling down. He grabbed a metal ring in the floor and lifted a trapdoor.

"Ori had some business t' discuss with his brothers," Bofur answered as Will started down the stairs. "How're you feelin'? Ready t' knock down a wall?"

Will snorted. "After last night, I only want to go back to bed!" he called up. "What kind of jam did you say, 'Lee?"

"Blackberry." She carefully flipped the eggs over, doing her best to not break the yolk. She frowned; two of the three broke. "Sorry, Bofur…" she murmured, cheeks turning pink.

He waved his hand dismissively. "Ah, it's no trouble. I could never flip them right either," he assured her. "And look, you've got one that didn't break!" He beamed up at her, making her smile.

"Aha!" they heard Will cry…before there came a loud thunk as he hit his head on a low beam. "Ow. I'm fine." He came crawling back up the ladder, rubbing his forehead with the back of his hand, a jar clutched in his fingers. His brow rose slightly as he saw the pinkness of his sister's cheeks, though his grin turned into a small frown as he saw her red eyes. "Baylee, can I talk to ya a moment?"

"Can it wait?" she asked. "I'm almost done here." She set the eggs on the plate before going to grab three, still-warm biscuits she had made that morning.

"Aye, it can," he said, setting the jam down and grabbing the tea kettle. By the time his tea had finished steeping, Bofur was walking out of the kitchen with an extremely full plate of food and a fresh mug of tea. "Now are you free to talk?"

She nodded, looking up at him innocently as she cleaned up the mess she had made. "What is it?"

"Why are your eyes red?" he asked, adding some honey into his mug. He watched as she looked away, cheeks darkening. "Baylee…"

Wiping some flour from the table and into her hand, she let out a heavy sigh. "I had another nightmare."

"I didn't hear you-"

"That's because I've learned t' wake myself up before…the end o' them." Dumping the flour into the waste bucket, she shook her head. "I'm fine. Just a little tired. Ya don't need t' worry."

He set his hand on her shoulder. "I always worry 'bout you –especially when you have those damned things. Your memory is so good, it's always in perfect detail. It can't be healthy, 'Lee."

"Healthy or not, I can't keep myself from havin' them," she grumbled, rubbing her temple. Letting out another sigh, she looked up at his scarred face and smiled reassuringly. "I'm fine, I promise. I'll just go t' bed early tonight."

He lightly pressed his fist into her shoulder, grinning. "Good. We don't need you—"

"Mahalu-me turg!" Bifur's voice suddenly interrupted. Will cocked a brow, looking at the far door of the kitchen.

"Er, you don't happen to speak dwarvish, do you?" he asked.

"Not a word of it."

"What about dad?"

"He knows 'hammer' and 'forge'. Maybe some curses, but that's all."

He sighed, shaking his head. "Damn."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Orûk yom!"

"I'm tryin' Bifur, but this thing weighs more 'n you and me combined!"

Will hurried over to the two dwarves as they carried in the new beam that would support the ceiling in the kitchen area. He wrapped his arms around the back of it, grunting as he lifted it out of Bifur's hands. "Of course it weighs a lot; it's solid oak!"

Bifur sighed, rubbing his shoulder. "Khi arukhu mez…lîkî mez," he grunted, following the other two through the shop. With William's help, the work had gone surprisingly fast. As he had said, the lad was quite a good carpenter –and he worked fast, able to keep up with the two of them. Another good thing about him was his height –he could easily reach the ceiling for them. "Khulu zu kanur sul meze?" he asked.

"He wants t' know if you can handle all this work," Bofur grunted, heaving his end of the beam onto a pair of sawhorses. Will set his down, being careful to not smash his fingers.

"I've handled all that you've thrown at me so far, haven't I?" Will replied with a breathless laugh.

A grin cam to Bifur's lips, making him look slightly crazy (which, in all honesty, he was). "Ghelekh usùgul," he told him, patting him on the back. He then looked at the wall that they had yet to tear down. "Gur mâ tashfab rânuk nîd?" he asked, looking at Bofur.

"What did he say?" Will asked, wiping his hands on his trousers; he had gotten a small cut from a rough part of the beam.

"Askin' how we're going to bring the wall down," Bofur chirped. "I've already got the solution." He walked into the next room for a moment before returning with his mattock and a large hammer that looked better suited to crushing skulls, not walls.

"Îz tada Dwalinme bakhuz?" he asked, his brow rising.

"Of course it's not," Bofur reassured him. He still wore a grin as he tossed the hammer to Will. "Dwalin would rip my beard out if I took his hammer. This is just one I found hiding away in the mansion before we left. I thought I'd bring it just in case."

Will raised his brow and lifted the hammer up so he could inspect it. For its size (large for a dwarf, medium for a human), it was rather heavy. The shaft of the handle was inlaid with iron for strength while the top portion was entirely encased by metal. He quite liked it.

Frowning, Bifur looked between the two younger males. "Halek mâ igedûburak nîdë?" he asked, almost pouting.

"Let the lad have a few swings first, then you can take over," Bofur told him. He then nodded at the ceiling. "He can reach up there, which we can't. Unless you were wantin' t' stand on me shoulders."

Bifur and William laughed, the former shaking his head. He motioned for them to go ahead and start their demolition, backing up a few paces. Bofur grinned, lifting his mattock.

"Alright, lad. Where do you suggest we start?" he asked, looking up at the human.

Will looked at the wall, his eyes narrowed as he tried to judge where the supports would be. "I know for a fact that there's a beam here," he said, his hand resting on the doorway. "There will be at least two more between here and the outer wall –at least, there should be. It's an old house, so there could be just one more, right about here." He knocked about halfway between the door and the far wall, hearing a hollow noise. Raising his brow, he continued to know until he heard a rather solid sound a little to the left of where he had guessed. "There we go. The beam is here."

Bofur walked over, using the flat of his mattock to carve a big 'X' into the plaster. "So we know not t' hit it," he explained.

"Why don't you start on that side," Will told him, motioning to the side nearest the door, "and I'll take this one?"

"Sounds good t' me!" He beamed; he was finally getting to destroy something. Moving to take his position, he wrapped his hands around the wooden handle. It had been so long since he had used the tool for its true purpose –mining- and yet, he could still wield it with deadly accuracy; many goblins, orcs, and wargs had learned this over time. Raising it up and over his shoulder, much like a sword, he glanced up to make sure the flat hammer end would hit the wall before swinging it. As it slammed into the wall, smashing through plaster and wood, he grunted and grinned before pulled it back out. Flipping it over, he swung again, letting the blade tear into the wall; as he pulled it out, wood and plaster was ripped down.

William chuckled to himself, impressed by Bofur's enthusiasm and strength. He lifted the hammer and aimed his blows closer to the ceiling. The weight of the tool made it easy to swing; it slammed nicely into the wall, leaving a large dent. Another swing and he had torn through to the other side. A third blow sent a large chunk of wall soaring into the next room. Still, he had not made nearly as much damage as Bofur, who was currently standing in front of a dwarf-sized hole in the wall.

Bifur watched the two work, his brow rising. The two lads were having quite a bit of fun their destruction, not really caring about the mess they were making. Of course they'd clean it up later, but he knew there would be some tired protest from the two of them. His ear twitched slightly as he thought he heard the door open in the other room. He went to check, just to be safe.

"Uz-Ori! Az-Baylee! Kulhu rânuk yadi?" he happily called upon seeing them.

"We come bearing food," Ori answered. He was grinning broadly as he held a large basket in his arms. Baylee, Bifur saw, was also carrying a basket, though hers was slightly smaller.

Two simultaneous smashing noises came from the back, making the two of them jump. "I take it the wall's being torn down?" Baylee asked. She heard a somewhat maniacal laugh from the other room; definitely from her brother. A second laugh, Bofur's, followed along with a hearty 'That hit the other wall, lad!'.

"Gholiz. Bofur ra'William kulhu yalaz darû furkuz ramim yom," he chuckled, ruffling Ori's hair. He was glad the young dwarf had been allowed to stay in Dale; Dori mothered him far too much. He needed to get out and do some exploring of his own. Peeking down into the basket, he could see some small wheels of cheese and items wrapped up in cheesecloth. "Kulhu yalaz mâ yadi?" He made to grab one of the cheeses, but Ori held the basket above his head.

"You've got to wait for the others, Mr. Greedy-Trousers!" Ori scolded. Bifur laughed.

Baylee was unable to keep herself from laughing at his boldness. "Bifur, could ya get the lads for us? I'd do it, but if me brother's destroyin' something, I don't want t' be anywhere near him."

He nodded, understanding her fear. "Gholiz, gholiz –zu háda izd," he said before going into the other room.

"If they're destroying something, then I think we brought food at the time," Ori said, looking up at her. He still held the basket above his head, as if someone would take it from him.

"Oh, aye. Knockin' walls down brings about one's appetite, that's for sure," she agreed. Most of the hammering in the next room stopped and Will and Bofur, both covered in dust and sweat, came in. They wore matching grins as they panted.

"Bifur said you two had food for us," Will said, sitting down against the wall. Another smash from the other room.

Ori and Baylee set their baskets down in front of the two. "It was partially Ori's idea, partially papa's," Baylee told them. "Ori here said you three would probably be starvin' about now an' papa wanted us girls out o' the inn for a bit, so here we are."

Bofur cocked his brow as he pulled one of the baskets onto his lap. "Why'd he want you out of the inn?" he asked, quickly laying out the basket's contents around him.

"The elves are bathing," Ori answered. Will snorted; Bofur scrunched his nose up. "He didn't want Miss Baylee or Miss Wenna tryin' to peep."

Her cheeks flushed red. "Like I'd peep anyway," she muttered, glancing away. "I had been busy makin' Dori an' Nori some pies t' take home with them, but next thing I know, papa's shovin' me out the door, tellin' me not to look behind him."

Will laughed. "I take it the elves were walkin' around half-naked?" She nodded. "Ah, remember what happened last time, though?"

"'Course I do," she said, brow rising. "Half the girls in Lake Town had come runnin' and were trying to peep at them."

Bofur shook his head. "Never learned what was so appealin' about elves. Why do they even need to bathe? Look at 'em! Dirt falls right off of them! If anything, they leave the tubs cleaner 'n when they got in."

Baylee and Ori snorted as Bifur came in. He brushed some dust off of himself before sitting down across from Will and Bofur. "Kulhu ghel ablug mâ grîf yadi?"

"Lots of it," Bofur answered, offering one of them a brick of cheese. "Cheese, meat pies, fruit pies, bread, ale, fruits…" He grinned, snatching up an apple and looking up at the two. "Thank-you," he told Ori and Baylee. "You brought us a miniature feast."

Bifur, his mouth full of food, made some gestures with his hands, which he held aloft as a sign of gratitude. Judging by his expression, Baylee could tell he was quite pleased as well.

"You're welcome," she chuckled. "By the way, since you lot are covered in dust an' grime…Tomorrow's linen day at the inn. If ya have anythin' ya want washed, just leave it on your beds along with a silver piece an' it'll get wash for ya."

Will glanced up at her pityingly. "You're on linen duty tomorrow, huh?" he asked, taking a large bite out of a meat pie. Finding that it was still rather warm, he started to fan his mouth and cursed. Bofur couldn't help but laugh and handed him a bottle of ale.

Her brow raised, she rolled her eyes at her brother's silliness. "Aye an' I'm not lookin' forward to it. Almost all the beds have been slept in thanks t' the elves. I'm hopin' Aunt Demelza will managed t' help me out for a while."

"Oh, good luck ropin' her in to help," he mused, finally having been able to finish his bite. "Good luck getting anyone to help you. You know what linen day is like. Anyway, I need t' get goin' back to the inn. I'll see you lads later." She smiled at them and gave them a small wave before turning and leaving. Ori followed close behind her, also waving at them.

"I take it that it's not the most fun job to have…?" Bofur asked.

"Nope," Will said through a mouthful of pie. "It's horrible. One person gets t' go t' all the rooms collecting the bedding and whatever clothes need washed while the other does all the washing. While the washing is goin' on, the first person has the easy job o' goin' round and remaking the beds with sheets that have already been cleaned. But the washing –that's the hardest part. You're bent over a tub for the better part of the day, scrubbing at all these sheets an' clothes…then you have to put 'em up to dry. That takes a long while, so we build a fire so the clothing at least gets dry reasonably fast…" He shook his head, tearing into another pie.

Bofur tilted his head. "How do you keep track o' whose clothes go where?" he asked before taking a long drink of ale.

"If it's Baylee who does the removal," he answered, "she just remembers. Everyone else, though –we have to write 'em down and label the piles."

Bifur's brow rose and he glanced up at Will. "Zûr zu azlâl sul utada?" he questioned. "Tada yothuru nukûd uazlâl."

He shoved some cheese into his mouth as Bofur translated for him. "She…has a strange memory," he shrugged. "I don't know any other way to explain it."

"Everyone's got a strange memory," Bofur thought aloud. "Like Bifur. He understands Westron; even used to speak it fluently. Now he just can't remember how."

Rolling his eyes, Bifur made some gestures with his hands and pointed at his axe.

"Aye, I know it has t' do with your axe. That axe made you forget!"

He made some more gestures –some of them not so nice and universal amongst the different races.

*

That night, the three tired, but proud, males returned to the inn. Bofur had his mattock slung over his shoulder while Will had the hammer resting over his shoulders. Drawing nearer to the inn, they could hear the sharp, metallic twang of hot metal being hammered. Bifur and Bofur furrowed their brows, looking for the source of the noise, but saw no sign of a smithy.

"Kun tada kalat?" Bifur murmured, cocking his head to try and listen for the source of the noise. "Mâ kat yom dohyarâl satf uyadi…"

"He askin' about the smithing noises?" Will asked.

"Aye," Bofur replied, also trying to find the source.

Will chuckled, shaking his head. 'Their brains must've gotten a bit rattled from smashing down that wall,' he thought. He remembered how, when there were just a few, weak pieces of wood left sticking out of the wall, the two dwarves made a wager against one another involving the removal of said wood with their heads. Bifur had won. "My dad used to be a blacksmith," he told them, leading them towards the inn yard. The hammering got louder before suddenly stopping. "He still dabbles in it to make horseshoes or some new cookware."

"Why'd he stop?" Bofur asked.

"My mum wouldn't marry him unless he stopped. He apparently always smelled horrible," he explained, laughing. Walking over to a heavy wooden door, he knocked loudly on it. "Ya in there, dad?" He didn't jump as it suddenly swung open, but the two dwarves were startled.

Warren stood in the doorway, panting slightly. He was covered in sweat and soot. "Who else would it be, lad?" he laughed breathlessly. "Your Uncle Richard sure as the wind doesn't come in here."

The dwarves poked their heads past him, looking into the smithy. "Decent set up," Bofur murmured, seeing a large oven filled with red-hot coals. In the middle of them sat a length of metal, its ends cherry-red.

"Gholiz," Bifur agreed. "Ghelekh ezùhyesh khebab…Dohyar ghelekh râzus." Before either human could stop him, he walked into the forge and started looking over Warren's tools. "Bakhuz'ala rudur; ghelekh kurdû kirikh." As he spoke, Warren had his eyes shut and was muttering to himself.

"Father?" Will asked, slightly worried.

"Sorry," Warren apologized, opening his eyes. "My Khuzdul is extremely rusty…not that I ever had a firm grasp on it in the first place." He laughed, noticing as Bofur looked at him, confused. "When I was a lad, I was apprenticed t' a dwarven smith," he explained. "But the most I remember is 'athhôrat bakhuz'. I had to fetch many hammers in my youth…"

Will raised his brow, looking at his father. "You also know nâshta-" He suddenly found his father's hand clamped over his mouth and a very stern look on his face.

"We don't say that in front of dwarven guests," he muttered, cheeks red as he glanced back at Bifur and Bofur. The two dwarves were doing their best to not snicker, though were somewhat failing. Removing his hand, he tried to look as if nothing had happened. "Now you three should get inside. Demelza an' Wenna should have your baths ready by now and-"

Bofur tilted his head, brows furrowed. "How did they know we'd be needin' baths?" he asked.

"Baylee told 'em, o' course," he answered.

"Odd. Why didn't she draw the baths?" Will asked, his brows furrowing.

"She's takin' a nap." He walked past the two dwarves, picking up a set of metal tongs. "Could you wake her after you're done, lad? She wanted t' be up before dinner."

He nodded. "Aye, I can do that. Anything else ya need done while I'm in there?"

"Make sure Wenna isn't flirtin' with the elves," he chuckled.

As the three of them walked off, Warren was positive he could hear Bofur muttering, 'Women an' elves…'

~*~

_"Baylee, do you remember what I taught you about sword fighting?" A helmet, much too large for her small head, was slid over her face and fastened into place._

_She looked down at the meat cleaver she held in her right hand. It had been the only weapon they could find for her. "A-a little…but this isn't even close to a sword…"_

_"No, it's not, love, but it's the best you've got for now. Treat it like a hatchet –quick blows, tryin' to disable the limbs. And this…" she was handed a small, wooden shield that had a large chunk missing from its edge, "this is your shield. It's not in the best condition, but it'll have to do." Her mother smiled reassuringly at her, but there was fear in her eyes. She, too, was clad in armor that was too big for her; armor that had been taken from injured or dead men that had been brought to be healed._

_A piercing shriek came from the near distance, earning cries of fear from those in the healer's tents. She shivered in fear, her knife shaking in her hand._

_"The goblins will be here any second," Éolynna continued. Outwardly, she appeared calm and collected, just as all Rohirrim shieldmaidens were trained to be. "The men that lie in those beds are there because they've protected us. It's our turn to protect them. Do you understand, Baylee?" She moved to stand beside her daughter, a short sword and bloodstained-shield in hand as she took a defensive position, the shield raised._

_She nodded, staring at the path ahead; her jaw was quivering in fear. "I do…" she murmured, shifting her stance to mimic that of her mother. A shape appeared at her right -it was Demelza sprinting out of a tent, two axes in hand. She had no shield, but had taken the armor from a soldier; his blood still covered the chainmail_

_"It's alright to be afraid, love," Éolynna told her daughter, her gaze fixed on the goblins as they came into sight. "Fear is natural. And when you fight against fear, such as now…that's the true courage in your heart."_

_Baylee threw quick glances at her aunt and mother; tall, proud Rohirrim shieldmaidens._

__

_"Nú til reiði," said her mother, speaking in her native tongue._

_Two women and a girl against fifty goblins._

_"Nú fyrir tortímingu og," continued Demelza._

_The rabble was drawing ever closer._

_"RAUðUR NÓTT DÖGUN! GJALD!"_

_The three women charged forward._

"Baylee, it's nearly dinner." Will held the candle up, trying to see his sister in the darkness. Hearing a whimper, he frowned and quickly closed the door behind him before crossing the room. As he drew near to the bed, he could see his sister lying face-down on her bed, her hands gripping her pillow. Tears were streaming down her face and every few seconds she would twitch.

"Baylee, wake up!" He shook her roughly, trying to rouse her. "Baylee!"

Her eyes suddenly shot open and she gasped. Seeing her brother, she bolted upright and clung to him, still whimpering. Will held her close, stroking her hair and gently rocking her. He could feel her body shaking and he sighed. The worst part about her nightmares, he knew, was that they had actually taken place.

Whenever they got her to speak about them, she would never say much. She would only tell them that she dreamt of the War. Once, Will had managed get his sister to tell him more and he shuddered when she told him about how their mother died.

"Everything's alright now, Baylee," he murmured, continuing to rock her. "The War's long over…Things are fine. Dad 'n me are fine." He glanced down at her, a reassuring smile on his face. "You won't have to go through that again." Using the pad of his thumb, he wiped away some of her tears.

"I…I just hate it," she choked out. "I hate bein' able to remember it perfectly. Mum's words, Demelza's battle cry, even the stench o' the goblins…" She shuddered and clung to her brother, knuckles white. "I don't even know what triggered the damn thing this time!" She sniffled, futilely trying to not get her snot on his shirt.

"Shh…" he rubbed her back. "It's over. You're awake now." He kissed the top of her head before resting his chin atop her shoulder. "And it's nearly dinner time. Galiene made your favorite."

She sniffled again, trying to wipe away her tears. "Roast duck?" she murmured. Will nodded and a small, wibbling smile came to her lips. "I hope there'll be some left by the time we finish servin' the guests…"

"Oh, there will be," he promised, pulling back and ruffling her hair. "Thank you, by the way."

Baylee cocked her head as she moved to climb out of bed. "For what?" Grabbing her boots, she started to tug them on.

"For lunch an' for telling the others to ready us baths."

She shook her head, buckling the straps. "It was nothin'. I know you would have done the same if I took up a messy job somewhere."

"Shouldn't be too much more mess now that we have the wall down." He picked up her brush and started to sort out her messy hair. "Just need to take out the other beams and shore the roof up with the new one. Then we wait for glass…"

Her brow rose. "But don't ya have t' work your magic on that big block o' oak you've got?"

"How'd you know it was oak?"

"I heard you 'n Bofur discussing it this morning."

"Eavesdropper."

"Worrywart."

"Tiny."

"Was that really unnecessary?"

"Of course." He tilted her head back to face him, showing her his wide grin. "You're my tiny big sister."

Her brow rose. "Arsemunch," she mumbled.

He feigned an appalled look. "Baylee Braddock! You watch your tongue in this inn!" he scolded teasingly. "Why, if dad heard ya usin' such foul language…" He straightened her head again as he separated her hair into two even halves. Putting the handle of the brush in his mouth, he started to braid her hair.

"Papa giggles like a little boy whenever I call you arsemunch," she smirked. "Are you doin' that fancy braid Lorelei taught you?"

"Uh-huh," he said, brows furrowed in concentration. "Geh muh a wibbon webby."

Trying to keep her head still, Baylee reached forward. She was just barely able to grab a ribbon from the table and she handed it back to Will. "I think you're the only lad I know who knows how t' braid."

"Dwaffs wrade. Evs wrade."

"Well, I meant human lads."

"I'm sure there are ovvers." Finishing the braid, he pulled the brush from his mouth and brushed out the end of it before tying it securely with the ribbon. "It's a useful skill that can be used with a lot o' other things that aren't hair." He let the braid flop onto her back. "There. Now let's go; I bet everyone's wonderin' what's taking so long for me t' wake you up."

Her brow rose as she watched him stand up. "When they see that you've brushed an' braided my hair, they'll know why." She squeaked as he picked her up and slung her across his shoulders. "What are ya doing?!"

"You weren't moving fast enough." He wore a broad, playful grin as he carried her out of her room and down the dark hallway. Despite the darkness, the two of them had come to know the layout well enough to navigate without light. "Can you walk on your own now?" he teased as they entered the parlor of their private quarters.

"Of course I can; now will ya put me down? Your hair is still soakin' wet an' it's making my stomach cold."

Grinning, Will set her down before moving to wring his hair out. "It's not that wet," he told her when only a few drops fell to the floor.

She rolled her eyes, though smiled. "I know –most o' it went into my clothes."

They left the private quarters and went into the common room. Baylee was rather surprised to find it relatively calm; the elves were talking quietly amongst themselves while Bofur and Bifur dried their hair out by the fire, discussing their day with Ori. A dozen or so humans were scattered across the room in small groups, drinking their ale or eating their supper.

"There you are, lass." She turned, finding Demelza coming up behind them, a bag of flour over her shoulder. "The elves put in a request for some more o' your fruit bread. We've been out since noon, though. Will, that means you get t' help me an' Wenna until she's done." She handed the bag of flour to Baylee, who carried it into the kitchen. "The dwarves haven't been tended to yet," she instructed, "they just came out from their baths."

Will nodded and, as his aunt walked off, he went to the bar. Grabbing three mugs, he filled them up with beer before taking them over to the dwarves. "Evenin', masters," he said as he set the drinks down. The three thanked him, large smiles coming to their faces as they snatched the vessels up. "Do you three know what you'll be wantin' for dinner?"

"Ori sanuaglâbuz zâramzundush mahblung," Bifur said from behind his mug. With his hair still wet and hanging limp about his shoulders, he did not appear as wild as he normally did. "Tada aklât ghelekh-"

Bofur looked at him while he spoke and nodded. "Aye, the duck does sound good. I'll have some o' that, too," he interrupted. He grinned somewhat apologetically as Bifur gave him a small glare.

"-Uhmûnd danukkhûlb, humund, u-chelekh," he finished. He sucked the foam out of his mustache before using his fingers to comb through the wiry hair.

"Duck, vegetables, bread, an' cheese," Bofur translated. "I'll have the duck an' some vegetables. An' beer, of course." He grinned sheepishly; he had already finishing his drink.

Brow rising, Will checked his mug. Every bit of liquid gone. "You an' your drinking! You finished off all our ale at lunch; are you always thirsty?" he joked.

Bofur let out a content belch. "Where there is drink, I am thirsty."

Shaking his head, Will looked at Ori. "What about you, Master Ori? What'll you eat tonight?"

Ori was swinging his legs under the chair again. "Is there any roast chicken?" he asked, his head tilted.

"There can be if you wish it," Will replied. "So, roast chicken. Anythin' else?"

"I'll have some biscuits an' chips as well."

His brows rose and he grinned. "It's been awhile since anyone's ordered chips. Galiene will be pleased about that."

His cheeks flushing pink, Ori looked at him curiously. "Why's that?"

"Means she can make extra for herself," he grinned before walking off.

Bifur grunted as he untangled a particularly nasty snarl from his beard. "Mabarîn fushták mil'ala."

Bofur nodded, glancing around the room as he started to comb through his own hair. "Aye, it is," he agreed. "Not that it's a bad thing though; a little quiet is always nice." He looked up as Will returned with his drink. "Thanks, lad," he said, taking the mug happily. "Where's Miss Baylee at?" He promptly took a drink from the foaming mug.

"She's baking at the moment," he replied, using his head to motion towards the kitchen, "but she should be out soon enough."

"I didn't know she cooks other meals." Ori tilted his head as he watched Bifur.

Will brushed some hair from his eyes. "Ah, she normally doesn't do much cooking at all; just baking. She's taken over the daily bread making from our aunt." He winked at the dwarves. "She just likes you three, so she's always makin' your breakfasts."

"Maher dûr jimuh umâ san," Bifur said with a small nod. "Berûkh nazelâ ghelekh. Ori, tanak fak yadi zerkûnastikh."

Obediently, Ori turned his chair and started to help Bifur braid his beard. "He says that Miss Baylee gives us the right amount o' food at breakfast," he translated.

"Oh, aye –she piles our plates nice 'n high with food," Bofur agreed, nodding. "That's not t' say Miss Galiene doesn't –because she does a very good job keepin' us all fed, but Baylee just adds a touch more."

Will laughed. "Aye, that she does. She gets that from our mum. She was always making sure we got more than enough t' eat." He glanced at the floor, a sad smile on his lips. "I'll, ah…have your food for ya as soon as possible. Just give a holler if you need any more beer."

Bofur's brows furrowed slightly as Will walked off. "Huh…Wonder what happened to their mum…?" He looked at Ori and Bifur, who shrugged.

"Kûnak yalaz hurkâza," Bifur murmured, braiding his beard. "Ranak za'budúkh mâranâk, taghelekhur."

Ori frowned slightly. "It's not our place to ask," he mumbled. Both he and Bifur gave Bofur a stern look, knowing full well that he was prone to blurting things out without thinking.

"Bofur, brahas zûrâ izd nughîrz khi," Bifur quietly ordered, his tone stern.

He frowned, looking down into the foam of his beer. "You know I know better 'n to ask people about that sort of thing," he replied, his voice also soft. His smile had gone, replaced with an unfamiliar melancholic appearance that somewhat disturbed Ori. Closing his eyes, he took a long drink from his beer.

Bifur reached over, patting his shoulder though he said nothing. Ori, finishing Bifur's first braid and starting on the second, decided it best to not question it.

It was quiet between the three for nearly a quarter of an hour. Out of nowhere, there was a small crash from the kitchen followed by a yelp, some thuds, and hearty dose of laughter.

"Sounds like a part y in there," Bofur chuckled.

One of the elves rose from her seat and crossed the room, poking her head into the kitchen to see what had happened. Shaking her head, she returned to her seat, telling her companions what had happened in Sindarian.

"I hope everthing's alright," Ori murmured, brows knitted together as he tried to figure out where he had messed up on the braid.

"Sounded like someone dropped a few things," Bofur suggested. He leaned back, the grin having returning to his face. Ori thought it suited him more than the sober expression. "Hope none of our food went t' waste!"

As he tucked his arm behind his head, Baylee emerged from the kitchen, absolutely coated in flour. Despite this, she was carrying two platters of food and was still laughing as Will, also flour-coated and food-toting, left the kitchen. He did not seem as amused as his sister about their situation; he was a bit upset about it, truthfully, since it meant a second bath for him. Both had left a trail of white footprints from the kitchen.

"That's what ya get for tryin' t' mess around in there," Baylee told him as she brought food to the dwarves. Will merely grumbled under his breath, taking some food over to a group of humans. "Here ya are, lads. Sorry it took a bit; the vegetables were bein' stubborn."

"Looks like the flour was bein' a bit stubborn as well," Bofur chuckled, flicking his hair over his shoulder as he scooted his chair closer to the table.

She laughed, nodding as she put the various plates and bowls on the table. To the dwarves' quiet relief, the food had not been touched by the wheat. "Will was tryin' t' be a stinker while I was cleaning up my bakin' mess an' ended up knocking the flour onto my head instead."

Bifur snorted into his mug as he went to take a drink, beer dribbling into his beard. "Nâ ranak khi aklat emùrag uyom," he chuckled.

"Well it sounded less like a party an' more like an avalanche to me," Ori chuckled.

"No," she smiled, setting down the final plate of biscuits. "Just a big oaf bein' clumsy."

"I heard that!" Will called.

"Good for you!" she called back, grinning as she went to go check on the Elves.

Bofur looked at the other two dwarves. "It's a right shame she doesn't get along with her brother," he joked.

"Taban," Bifur agreed, nodding slowly. "Mahmazar zurkur ze ûn Bombur." He started to carve up his duck, grinning as the skin crunched under his knife.

"I'm allowed t' tease my brother every now 'n then," Bofur defended, also starting to carve his duck. He glanced over at Ori, who was separating out some roasted greens from the rest of his vegetables. "What're you doin' there, Ori?"

Ori looked up. "I don't like green food," he said before returning his gaze to his plate. "I'm not a rabbit."

Bifur shrugged, reaching over with his knife and taking the greens for himself. This earned a bit of protest from Bofur, who had been moving to do the same; both of them rather enjoyed green food –so long as there was plenty of meat served with it. Their argument ended when Bofur offered some of his roasted potatoes in return for the greens.

Ori shook his head. 'Strange ones they are,' he thought, 'liking rabbit food so much…'


	6. Chapter 6

Bifur woke up with a headache, but that was nothing new.

It was thanks to the axe lodged in his skull that he got the blasted things in the first place. A hundred and thirty-three years without ever getting a headache and then, bam! He gets an axe in his head and he wakes up every other day for the next forty-two years (and counting) with one.

Of course, he could live with the headaches –obviously, as he was still quite alive and kicking. It was the inability to speak Westron and the strange dreams that he had sometimes that drove him insane. Khuzdul was not a bad language; rather fun, in fact, but only when around other dwarves. Iglishmek, too, was a completely fun language –but, again, only around other dwarves.

He missed being able to freely converse with humans…and, if ever chance allowed for it again, hobbits. Elves…well, it was best that he kept to his Khuzdul. Especially after being shoved in a barrel of dead fish (even though that was mostly Bilbo's doing, Bifur still pinned the blame on the elves. They had locked him and his companions up, after all).

With a sigh, he rolled himself over in the bed and kept his eyes firmly shut, determined to will his head to stop hurting. Some days, he was able to achieve such a feat; others…not so well. As he lay there, half awake, half asleep and thoroughly unaware of the waking world, he began to feel relieved as it turned out that, today, he would be able to will the pain away. He was just starting to fall back into the realm of sleep when Bofur let out a loud yawn.

"Psst…Bifur…You up yet?" he hissed through the dimly lit room.

Bifur frowned, his brows furrowing. He was half tempted to merely pretend he was asleep, but his younger cousin would figure it out it was just a charade. "Kulhu zu zirikh…?" he gruffed.

"Ah, good! You are up!" He heard Bofur crawl out of bed and cross the room. "So, I was thinkin'-"

"Líz atûk?" Opening his eyes, he let out a small, surprised grunt as he found Bofur kneeling next to the bed, his chin resting on its edge. "Kulhu brahas zu utada?" he asked.

"Oh, very funny, cousin." A slight pout came to his lips. "I was thinkin' that you could go to Erebor today and get us some glass. And tell Bombur what's goin' on. After all, we haven't really had the chance to tell him that we've found a shop yet."

"Kulhu, zu arnâk tada mâ kundim uBofurme akar ufunm zesul?" he snorted. "Naraglavammazâm azgharab mâ!"

Bofur gave his cousin a look. "Oh, c'mon, Bifur! I know full well that you don't mind visitin' Bombur's part of the mansion. You love gettin' attacked by those wee dwarrowlings o' his." He fell backwards onto his rump as Bifur shoved his pillow in his face. Letting the cushion fall onto his lap, he glanced up to see Bifur sitting up. "So you'll do it then?"

His brow rising, Bifur looked down at his cousin. "Unâ," he grinned.

It was halfway between breakfast and midday when Bifur arrived at the gates of Erebor. On either side of him, a mixture of humans and dwarves were coming and going into the great city, many with empty carts that, upon leaving, would be full to the brim with goods. A grin came to his lips as he looked way up at the black stone ceilings and closed his eyes for a moment.

_"Fine silks! Fine silks for sale!"_

_"These are the strongest hammers in the whole of Erebor; they're forged from only the strongest of iron."_

_"Bah, I can get a better pair of boots for five silver less at Narûkaz's shop down the street."_

Here, in Erebor, he could finally speak to others and be understood. He grinned, starting to walk once more. Occasionally, he was greeted by a fellow dwarf, who called out and waved at him. As he got further and further from the market area, however, things quieted down. He found himself walking along a smooth, black street inlaid with golden geometric figures that crisscrossed over one another in intricate patterns. It was familiar to him; he had walked this path almost every day for five years. Just ahead, he knew, it rounded a corner. He would continue straight for a little while longer before making a left down a side street. And when he came to the end of that…

A warm smile came to his lips as he looked at the large wooden door ahead of him. It had been stained with a dark finish, but gold and silver wire ran across its surface, mimicking the figures on the street. It was set into a flat, black wall –to anyone who was not a dwarf, it seemed pointless to have a door in a plain, unimpressive wall.

But to Bifur, this was home. A real home where he could see his family and prop his feet up on a cushion and eat good, home-cooked food.

Opening the door, he stepped inside. Straight away, he was able to smell Gerdi and Bombur's cooking; they always had something cooking. In the distance, he could hear the shouts and yells of their four youngest children as they wrestled while their elder brothers tried to get them to calm down slightly.

Cupping his hands around his mouth, he called out (in Khuzdul), "I'm home!"

Everything fell silent for a moment. And then he heard the shuffle of eight feet and their owners crying shouts of 'Cousin Bifur! Cousin Bifur's home!' (also in Khuzdul) and he braced himself for the impact that was soon to come. Soon enough, for dwarrowlings came bolting down the hall. Almost at the same time, they jumped and clung onto the older dwarf, who was laughing heartily as he saw them.

"Ah, there are my lil' badgers," he laughed, doing his best to hold all four of them. "You didn't knock me down this time; that's two for me an' eight for you!"

"We're still ahead o' you by a whole lot o' knock-downs, Cousin Bifur," the eldest of the group, Boroz, grinned.

The youngest, a little girl by the name of Sanna, climbed up on one of Bifur's shoulders. "Where Uncle Bof?" she asked, looking behind him for any sign of her uncle.

"Still in Dale, my little lass," he replied, scooping the other girl, Grid, onto his other shoulder. The two boys (the younger being named Buruz), he scooped under his arms as he started for the kitchen. "Is your daddy home?"

"He's off in the market," said an older, female voice. Bifur looked up, spotting his cousin-in-law, Gerdi. She was a beautiful dwarf woman with extremely long, deep red hair and a fine, ruby-red beard lining her jaw. Seeing Bifur, she smiled happily at him. "So, why is that silly old coot still in Dale?" she asked, resting one arm on the doorframe while the other rested over her rather pregnant belly.

Finally setting down the children, he shooed them off. "We've found a shop."

Her eyes widened. "Are you serious? You and Bofur were actually able to find one?!"

"Well, sort of. That's why I'm back –and it's only for the day. We bought a building-"

"You took that much gold with you!?"

"-And we're fixing it up," he said, ignoring her comment for now. "We've got a human lad –bloody good carpenter- helping us. We're staying at his family's inn."

Gerdi sighed, rubbing her temple. "I knew I should have checked Bofur's pockets before the two of you left…" She shook her head. "Well, too late for that." Turning, she waddled back into the kitchen, motioning for him to follow. "So, then, what brings you home? I know it can't be just to tell us you've bought a shop."

He went to sit down at the table. "I need to get panes of glass for the window we'll be putting in," he explained. "Bofur thought it best I do that task, since…well, I don't speak Westron anymore." His eyes lit up and he smiled as Gerdi placed a large bowl of vegetable soup before him.

"You'll learn it again, I'm sure," she said, sitting herself down on a stool. "So. You've found a shop…and you're fixing it. Was the building not in good condition?"

"The building's sturdy. It'll last a couple more decades at the least," he told her. "We're changing the layout a little bit to make it more…well, shop and dwarrow friendly." He paused to eat some of the soup. It was strange to him that he liked it; it had absolutely no meat and yet, it tasted meaty. He wondered if it was all the different mushrooms Gerdi put into it. "Like I said, we've got ourselves a fine young carpenter who's been helping us the last few days. I thought Bofur and I were getting a lot done –well, I had thought wrong."

A young dwarf lad, his beard just starting to fill in around his jaw, poked his head into the room. "Aha! So the little ones were telling the truth," he grinned, coming into the room. Two more dwarves followed him, both older and significantly more bearded than he.

"Well, who else could I be?" Bifur asked with a small grin.

"You sounded like Uncle Bofur when we first heard you," the middle brother, Berez, said as he sat down.

The eldest, Baraz, rolled his eyes teasingly as he filled himself a mug of ale. "You just have bad hearing, Berez."

"Biriz thought he was Bofur too!" Berez argued.

"Boys," their mother said, her tone firm. She gave them a highly motherly look, her brow raised.

The three winced slightly while Bifur chuckled. "Sorry, mother."

She shook her head, looking at Bifur. "So, you're back for glass but then you'll be off to Dale again?" she asked him. He nodded, the spoon in his mouth. "Shame…The little ones miss their Cousin Bifur and Uncle Bofur."

"What?" Baraz asked, brows furrowed. "That's why Uncle Bofur isn't back?"

Bifur leaned back in his seat slightly. "We've got a shop," he said for the second time. "Maybe when we get it up an' running, we'll have one or two of you lads up there helping us." He then gave them a teasing wink. "I think you'll find the females to your liking."

Gerdi lightly swatted his shoulder as her sons grinned broadly. "Bofur! They're still lads yet!" she gently scolded. "Anyway, Berez here already has his eyes on a lass." She smirked as Berez turned as red as his hair.

"Mum! I do not!" he argued, clearly flustered. "I've just been helpin' her learn how to tell good gems from bad ones, since her da' is off in the Iron Hills for a few months…"

Bifur and Gerdi gave one another matching looks of unconvinced amusement. Then, as Bifur's head was lightly snapped back, Gerdi's eyes shot open, for Sanna had snuck into the kitchen and was climbing her way up Bifur's back.

"Sanna! What did I tell you-Oh, you naughty little dwarrowling, don't climb on Cousin Bifur!"

Despite her scolding, Bifur reached back and tugged the little girl over his shoulder, earning a shriek of laughter. "Ah, no harm done, Gerdi," he grinned, tickling the youngsters sides. "At least she doesn't grab onto the ax like Grid used to." He shot a look at Biriz. "Or Biriz. Oh, that lad was notorious for trying to yank it out."

Biriz shifted and glanced away innocently. "I haven't the slightest idea of what you're talking about."

Getting the young girl properly situated on his lap, Bifur chuckled. "Ah, if ever I'm blessed with dwarrowlings of my own, I just know one of them will try to pull this thing out," he chuckled. He dipped his spoon into the stew, starting to lift it towards his mouth, but Sanna grabbed a hold of his hand and tugged it towards her. "You little thief," he chuckled as she ate the bite. "Have you been around Nori lately, missy?"

She tilted her head back, giving him a wide, cheeky grin. "Nooo," she giggled, wiggling her feet together.

"It's what she does whenever she's sittin' on someone's lap and they have food," Baraz smiled. "Uncle Bofur taught her that. He thinks it's hilarious that she steals their food."

Gerdi raised her brow. "Well then, it's no wonder he's the skinniest of you three!" she laughed. "He never gets any food because little miss there is eating all of it!"

Sanna looked up at her mother. "Yummy," she chirped, stealing another spoonful of Bifur's lunch. She tried to take a third, but Bifur grabbed the bowl and held it above her head. She whined, trying to reach it, but her mother scooped her up.

"It's your nap time, missy," she told her, earning a very big pout from such a little girl. "You'll get your lunch after you nap. You know your tummy gets upset if you eat before naptime."

Sanna opened her mouth to argue, but a bellowing call of 'Daddy's home!' from the hallway changed her mind. Squirming out of her mother's grip, she dashed into the hallway, meeting up with siblings. Bifur raised his brow, chuckling as he continued to eat his stew. As his cousin, Bombur, came into the kitchen, Baraz, Berez, and Biriz scooted out of the way, for their father was quite rotund and took up a lot of space –especially when carrying an armful of dwarrowlings and an enormous piece of cured ham.

"Bifur!" he grinned, seeing the other dwarf. "I was beginning to wonder what was taking you and Bofur so long to come home. Did he find himself a free tap of beer to live under?" He held the ham away from him as Grid and Boroz tried to reach over and steal some chunks from it.

"They've bought a shop and are fixing it up," Gerdi told him, getting up and taking the ham from him. The two of them had to lean over in order to give the other a kiss thanks to their bellies. "Bifur's here just for a short visit before he heads back." She moved to set the ham on the counter before moving to pick up Sanna, who pouted. "Now it's you nap time, my little dwarrowling."

"No wan' seep!"

The two left the room, the little girl continuing to vocalize her protests.

Bombur looked at Bifur, amazed. "So, you two are really going to do it then? Open up a toyshop in a city of men?"

Nodding, Bifur chewed some of the vegetables in his stew; he had figured out that it was the mushrooms that made it taste so meaty. "A lot o' the folk have voiced their approval. Apparently, Dale doesn't have a toymaker right now. Think of all the bored children." Another bite.

Bombur sat himself down, finally releasing his children. Grid, however, still hung off of his arm, swinging her feet happily. "Well, it's a good thing you and Bofur love children then," he chuckled, scratching his chin. "I'm sure you two will have plenty of customers. Just remember, though, that if ever you get bored, the mines are always in need of more strong backs. Boroz, don't you dare touch that ham!"

The lad looked up, eyes wide and hand merely a hairsbreadth away from stealing a nibble from the meat. Baraz laughed, ruffling his hair as he plucked up the leg and carried it into the pantry. "But I'm hungry."

"There's a whole pot of stew that Berez made, you lil' whiner," Biriz grinned, getting him in a headlock and rubbing his knuckles over his scalp.

Bifur looked at his bowl, amazed. "Berez made this?" He glanced up, seeing the second-oldest glance away shyly, his cheeks red under his beard.

"Mum's been needing help, what with how she's nearly ready to burst," he said, rubbing his neck. "So, she tells me what to do and I do it. Dad will sometimes help me."

"It's good," Bifur reassured him. 'I think I'll have to visit this part of the mansion more often,' he thought, holding his bowl to his lips so he could get every last drop of stew in his mouth.

Humans would consider dwarf mansions to be castles rather than actual mansions. For one thing, one mansion alone could hold at least four 'parts' of a dwarf clan –that is, to say a set of grandparents, a set of parents, their children, and their children's families. After that, it was up to the youngest generation to go out and found their own mansions for the clan…unless vacancies in the original home came to be. Most, though, preferred to put some distance between them and their relatives, for sanity's sake.

"So, this shop of yours and Bofur's," Bombur said, resting his hands on his stomach once Grid had released him. "Is it in a good part of Dale? How large is it?"

"Aye, it's in a good part of the city," Bifur told him. He plucked up Buruz as the young one walked by and started to tickle him, grinning. "It's on the edge of the market; the building is two stories tall with a nice little terrace on the roof. It's about twice the size of our old shop."

Bombur nodded in understanding. "I heard that Ori's been allowed to stay a bit longer in Dale. Has he been helping you two?"

"Today he's helpin', but he's mostly there to explore. We've got a human lad doing the carpentry for us." At that, Bombur's brows rose. "Aye, we hired a human. He's a big lad –almost six and a half feet tall. Quite useful to have around since we can't reach the ceilings."

Wriggling out of his grip, Buruz looked up at him. "Are you 'n Uncle Bof going to sell your toys there?" he asked, moving to sit on the table.

He nodded. "We are."

"Will you still make toys for us?" Grid asked, plopping her chin on his knee. She gave him a sort of kicked-puppy look; it was a look that normally earned her extra helping of dessert if it wasn't her parents serving her.

"Of course we will!" he laughed. "Why wouldn't we want to make fun things for our little badgers to play with?" He ruffled her hair.

Boroz grinned, hopping up and wrapping his arms around Bifur's neck from behind, hanging off of the older dwarf. "Good! Because you two make the best toys in the whole of Middle Earth! Especially that fall-apart man you made me a few months ago." He wore a cheeky grin as he continued to cling onto Bifur.

Shaking his head, Bombur quietly laughed. "Where have you been staying through all this?"

"At an inn called the Full Tankard. If ever you're in Dale, I highly recommend it. Baraz, bring an old dwarf some ale, will you please?" He watched the eldest son nod, moving to fill the mug up. "The owner was apparently a blacksmith once, apprenticed to one of the last dwarves in Lake Town. Ah, thank you, lad." Taking the foaming mug, he took a long drink. "It's his son who's helping us. He daughter is rather helpful too; she's brings us lunch as well as makes sure we never have empty mugs."

"Sounds like an establishment I will have to pay a visit to," Bombur grinned, "though, is the food any good?"

'I shouldn't have told him…now, if he goes there, poor Baylee's pantry will be emptied!' he thought. "Quite good," he allowed himself to admit to his cousin. "It's not fancy, like you'd find at other inns. Though, I've yet to taste a stew as good as yours or Gerdi's."

Bombur nodded, scratching his chin again. "Well, so long as you three are getting along well enough. Maybe when you're shop is open for business, we'll drop in for a visit. Is the carpenter lad going to be helping you make toys or sell them?"

"Well, Bofur offered him a job should he prove handy enough, though we're not sure if he'll do much of the selling."

"Why's that?" Berez asked, his head tilting.

"He not nice or something?" Biriz inquired.

Bifur shook his head. "Oh no, he's a very friendly bugger. It's just…Well, he's got some nasty scars on his face that scare other humans." He took another drink of his ale. "Of course, we dwarrows don't give two coppers about them –after all, we pride ourselves on our battle scars- but you know how humans can be." He gave a small shrug. "But, a few of the younger human lasses seem to not mind the scars." He grinned, giving the older lads a wink.

"Humans are weird," Grid said. "They don't have much hair and they're too tall! The must hit their heads on everything."

"Grid, that's silly," Boroz told her. "They're humans; they make things human sized!"

She pouted slightly. "But what about the hair, then? Why don't their women have beards like us? They should have beards!"

"They must shave a lot," Buruz wondered aloud. "Probably three times a day."

The three of them thought for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, that must be it," they agreed, earning a round of laughter from their family.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

For the better part of the day, Ori had been sitting against a wall in the shop, his sketchbook propped open on his knees. Sometimes, he was pulled out of his trance when Bofur and Will needed help hauling something, but, for the most part, the two let him be. When lunch was delivered by Warren (Baylee was too busy with laundry), they left some food at his side and quietly laughed as he unconsciously ate or drank with his right hand, he left hand continuously moving across the pages.

It was around three in the afternoon when he finally finished what he was working on. Grinning, he hopped to his feet and bolted into the back room, where Bofur and Will were sawing wood down to size for a window frame.

"I've finished it!" he chirped, hurrying over to Bofur. "I've finished the design you wanted!"

"Did you now, lad?" Bofur grinned, thankful for the break from sawing. Setting the tool down, he leaned against the sawhorse and motioned for Ori to show him.

Will, curious, wandered over, peering over Bofur's head as the young dwarf opened the sketchbook. There, sprawled across two pages, was a rather intricate drawing of a sign advertising 'Bifur and Bofur's Toyshoppe'. The writing was along the top and bottom of the sign, leaving the middle full of little drawings of toys that Ori knew his friends had made over the years.

"I quite like this," Bofur grinned, still looking the drawing over. "You've gotten a lot better since I last saw some o' your stuff, lad."

His cheeks flushed with pride. "I tried to put everything you and Bifur wanted in it, but 'Toymakers Extraordinaire' wouldn't fit."

"Ah, that's alright. It sounded a bit excessive anyway," he smiled. He looked up at Will. "That look doable to you, lad?" He handed the sketchbook up to the human, letting him get a better look.

After a few minutes, Will nodded. "Aye, I can do this. It'll take me some time though; a week at the least." He handed the book back to Ori, whose cheeks were still red. "After that, maybe I'll have Master Ori help me paint it. Not too good with painting anymore."

Bofur tilted his head. "Why's that?"

Will held up his left hand and the two dwarves could see that it was shaking slightly –not enough to hinder wood working, but enough to mess up a delicate job like painting. "The warg that got me tore some muscles or something, making my hand shake if I don't have it completely relaxed. I can keep it pretty steady if I'm holding a chisel or hammer, but a paintbrush?" He shook his head. "Anyway, this one here," he ruffled Ori's hair, "is an artist. I'm sure he'll make it look bright and colorful."

"I'm glad you two like it," Ori shyly mumbled, smiling as he clutched the sketchbook to his chest.

All three looked up as the door to the shop opened. Poking his head into the main room, Bofur grinned broadly. "Bifur! How was the trip?"

"Ghelekh!" Bifur replied. "Gang ku hôfukel. Khulûd urudthador, irmish umah geren."

"Ah, that's good," Bofur grinned. "Ori, show him your sign sketch while Will and I get the glass, will you, lad?" As Ori nodded, he led Will outside; the clouds had grown quite dark that morning and it was threatening to rain. He was sure that Bifur was glad he had returned before the skies opened up. "I think we'll get a storm tonight," he said, his hands on his hips as he looked up at the sky. "Too dark for just rain, though there isn't much wind about."

Will narrowed his eyes as he, too, looked skyward. "Oh, it'll come. The wind always comes when there's a storm. It can sometimes just take a—ouch!" He flinched, looking down at his palms.

Bofur frowned. "What's wrong, lad? Did you cut yourself an' not know it?" He glanced over.

"No….there's nothing wrong with my hands," he murmured, inspecting them closely. "Well, I got a sliver, but I barely notice those anymore. It feels like they're burning."

Taking his hands, Bofur looked them over, his brows knit together in concentration. He flipped them over, inspecting the backs of them too. "That's odd, lad. I don't see anythin' that looks like a burn on them. Don't know how you would have burned 'em, either. We don't have any fire in there. If we did, then I'd be a bit concerned because I sure as Mahal knows didn't start any fire…"

"I know. It's weird," he said, shaking his hands when the dwarf released them. They still tingled a bit, but the pain was gone. "It's gone now, though…" Frowning, he went over to the cart to pick up one of the stacks of glass panes. His brow rose, seeing that there was also two medium-sized baskets of mushrooms, four chests –two large, two small-, and two rolls of leather along with the three small stacks of glass. "What's all this?" His head tilted curiously.

Poking his head alongside Will's arm, Bofur shrugged. "Not sure, really. Oh! Wait, these are our tools," he said, patting the rolls of leather. "Includin', but not limited to our own chisels, hammers, scissors, and files for toy making," he grinned. "And those are mushrooms. Not…entirely sure why he brought mushrooms, t' be honest…I mean, mushrooms are quite delicious, but why he would get them when he was supposed to get glass…"

"Khajima u-azGaliene," Bifur said, stepping outside. "Ubuk dhi gabilêkh udhi ublugâl." He walked over, grabbing one of the glass stacks.

"Ahhh." Bofur looked up at Will. "They're a gift to Galiene," he told him, "because she's a good cook."

Will smiled. "Ah, well, I'm sure she'll appreciate that then. It's not often someone gives her a gift for her skills," he grinned. The pain in his hands forgotten for now, he carried the panes inside, taking them upstairs when Bofur instructed him.

~*~*~

That night, the three of them returned to the inn just as the wind and rain started. Peter raced out of the stables, leading Bofur, Bifur, and their pony into the large building so that could get the animal in a warm stall and their belongings out of the cart in dryness. Will and Ori followed, knowing that they would need some help with the larger chests. By the time they had gotten everything settled in for the night, the wind was howling outside and slamming the rain against the walls and windows.

The dwarves were very thankful that they were inside at the moment.

It was as the four of them were coming down the stairs that they noticed something seemed off about the common room. It wasn't terribly crowded tonight and it seemed that the elves had left. They were halfway down when Ori spotted it.

"Huh. There's people at our table," he said.

Will glanced up. "That's my uncle an' Baylee," he said, frowning. Hopping over the edge of the railing, he hurried over, not noticing that the dwarves were close behind. His sister's back was to him, but he could see that his uncle's brows were furrowed in concentration. "What happened?" he demanded, leaning over to look. Seeing what his uncle was doing, his eyes widened. "Oh merciful Yavanna…Baylee, what did you do?"

She looked up at him, tears soaking her cheeks. "I didn't do anythin' but laundry all day," she told him, her voice shaking slightly.

'This must be why it felt like my hands were burning earlier,' he thought with a frown. Kneeling down, he wrapped his arm around her shoulder.

"Ooh, that's mighty nasty," Bofur murmured. He, Bifur, and Ori stood at the end of the table, watching as her hands were continuously coated with cool water. "Looks like you got yourself too near t' dragon fire, lass."

"This can happen when someone doesn't make soap correctly," Richard, their uncle, spoke. His voice was quiet as he dipped a clean cloth into the bowl of water before squeezing it over her palms. "Most o' the time, the reaction is mild, but I guess Baylee didn't notice it right away."

"I just thought they were red from all the scrubbin' I've done," she told him. She flinched as he took her hands, gently turning them over. Just the water dripping onto her skin hurt, but whatever her uncle had put into the water would leave her skin feeling cool for a few seconds.

Will gave her a comforting smile. "Hate to say, but it's a good thing you were on linen duty and not Wenna," he quietly told her. "She'd be wailin' her head off." Kissing the top of her head, he gave her a small squeeze before going off into the kitchen, knowing he'd have to take her place that night for serving.

She managed a small laugh. "Aye, she would. But I don't blame her. This hurts!"

Ori frowned. "How can you make soap wrong?" he asked, not noticing Bofur disappearing from his side. "I thought it was just soap…"

"Hukûr aruk u-ûrud kata," Bifur told him. "Zuzna ikuz tanak zatatanak."

"Oohh," he murmured. He sniffed the air; something smelled a little odd. "Do you have anything in that water?" he asked Richard.

Richard glanced up at him, smiling tiredly. "It's a mixture o' lavender an' rose water. Normally I keep them on hand for Galiene, but exceptions are always made."

"He's a healer," Baylee told Ori. She flinched again. "Can't I just rest my hands in the water?"

He shook his head, giving her an apologetic look. "There's not enough for that. I'm afraid this is the last of my store I'm using." His words seemed to make her perk slightly. "Yes," he chuckled, "that means we'll be going to Esgaroth sometime in the near future."

This caught Ori's attention. "Esgaroth's still around?"

"O' course it is," Richard quietly laughed. "It's got a smaller population now, though. A lot of the folk didn't feel safe living in a wooden village anymore –especially with Smaug's remains rotting under them. So, we came here and rebuilt." He sighed, leaning back in his chair and rolling his head on his shoulders. "But, Esgaroth is better capable of growing lavender than we are," he continued. "So, every few months I take Baylee with me t' restock my medicine stores."

Ori nodded in understanding, his eyes a bit wide. He remembered what Esgaroth –Lake Town, as most folk knew it- had been like when he and the rest of Thorin's Company had traveled there five years ago. For the most part, they had been welcomed into the city…he tried to remember what places they had visited while there; had he unknowingly seen Baylee and her family when they were there…?

Richard sighed. "That's all I can do for you, love," he told Baylee. "Until I get more medicine, I'm afraid you'll just have t' tough it out."

"No she won't!" Bofur had reappeared, carrying with him a wooden pot. "Good thing Bifur brought our trunks today," he grinned, pulling a stool up next to Baylee, "otherwise her hands would be like this for days. Almost forgot I had this stuff with me; it's been awhile since I last got burnt, so I haven't used it lately…"

Richard's brows furrowed as he watched the dwarf unscrew the cap. "What is it?" he asked. "May I see?"

He handed the pot over and watched as the man took out a small about, rubbing it between his fingers. "I'm not sure what all is in it, but we dwarrows use it when we get burnt; it heals the burn within a few hours," he told him. "Sort o' like plant magic, but I don't know if the healers who make it say any funny sort o' spells over it or if they just mash a bunch o' herbs together in animal fat. I do know that lavender is in it –mostly t' keep it smellin' nice." He took it back as Richard handed it to him. "Of course, we use it only for minor burns. The smiths have their own concoctions for worse things." He tugged off his knitted mittens and scooped some of the stuff on his fingers. "Your hand, please, Miss Baylee," he said.

She hesitated. "Is it goin' to hurt?"

"A lil', but only at first," he told her. "Once I start rubbin' it in, it'll make your hand go cold."

She glanced at her uncle; he nodded. "My fingertips feel rather chilled and I'm not burnt," he told her. "It's safe, sweetie. I need to go clean this up." As he stood up and walked off, Baylee held her hand out to Bofur.

Being as gentle as he could, he started to spread the salve across the back of her hand. Regardless, she flinched and he quietly cooed to her, knowing that she was in pain. "Should start feelin' your skin coolin' down within a few seconds, lass," he softly reassured her. His hands were much bigger than her own, and yet he was being surprisingly delicate as he carefully massaged the mixture into her cracked skin.

She didn't really know why, but Baylee felt her cheeks turning pink.

"Had t' use a lot o' this stuff when I was still a miner," he told her. He reached over, getting more of the salve on his fingers before continuing to massage it into her hand. "We had these helmets that had little boxes for candles on 'em. Most o' the time, you forget about the candles and go t' push the helmet back an' end up burning your fingers or wrist. This was a lifesaver down there. Think there's still a stack o' empty pots lying around my old house somewhere in the Blue Mountains."

Bifur lightly nudged Ori and leaned over as they watched the two of them. "Khi yulz jâl tûrz darûn khalekâmaduz," he whispered to the younger dwarf. "Sakh uthrukh hi zatâz mâd dhi ruthuk…"

Ori did as he was told, his eyes peeking down at Bofur's hands. Now that Bifur had mentioned it, Ori could see that he was being far more careful than normal; surely it had to be because Baylee was human and not as tough as a dwarf? But if that were the case, why did they both seem to be blushing? And why was Bofur's voice so soft…?

He glanced at Bifur, using Iglishmek. 'You don't think…?' he signed.

Bifur merely shrugged. The two of them looked up as Will walked over, carrying four mugs of ale.

"Galiene thanks you for the mushrooms, Bifur," he told him, setting the mugs down. "She said she'll be putting them to good use tomorrow."

"Tada ghelekh," Bifur grinned.

Baylee leaned over, peeking around Bofur. "Ya got Galiene some mushrooms?" she asked. He nodded. "That's nice o' you," she smiled, looking back down at her hand. It wasn't nearly as red anymore and from about her elbow down felt pleasantly cool.

"Other hand, lass," Bofur told her, getting more of the salve. He gave her a small smile. "How's it feelin'?"

"Much better, thank you," she said, her cheeks still pink.

Will glanced over. "Dwarvish healing medicine?" he asked Ori and Bifur.

Ori nodded. "It helps with burns."

"Will, uncle said I can go with him t' Esgaroth," Baylee grinned, despite flinching as Bofur once more began to massage her hand. "You think papa will let me go?"

He raised his brow, watching as she gingerly picked up her mug of ale and took a drink. "You're no girl anymore, Baylee. I'm sure dad will let you go so long as you ask nicely. Though…" He suddenly wore a highly mischievous grin. "You can get a for-sure yes out o' him if you put on some wet works an' show him your hands."

She rolled her eyes. "No! I'm not usin' 'the look' on papa. I'm too old for that, anyway." She licked away the foam that covered her upper lip.

"But you can guarantee yourself a yes if you use it!"

"I'm just goin' to ask him like a normal person!"

Bifur cocked his brow. "Kulhu hadhidh?" he questioned, looking between the siblings.

"Aye, I'm a bit curious myself," Bofur chuckled. "What's this 'look' you two are arguin' about?" By now, he was using his thumbs to work the salve into Baylee's palm.

"Baylee used to be able to this really pathetic expression," Will grinned. Baylee rolled her eyes again as she took another drink of ale; she was trying to keep herself from giggling because Bofur's touch somewhat tickled. "It looked like a mix between a kicked puppy and an unloved child; it just tore out your heart. She can still do it to a point; she's used it on Aunt Demelza a time or two…"

"I mostly used it when you were gettin' me in trouble for the havoc you caused," she said, setting her mug down. She nodded at the door as three, rain-soaked figures came in. "Customers."

He thanked her before walking off to tend to them.

Bofur glanced up at her. "So, do we get t' see this look o' yours?" he asked, grinning. "or are we left sitting here in curiosity?"

"Yeah, I want to see it!" Ori grinned. He always delighted in seeing new expressions on people; it gave him more ideas about how the face worked for when he was drawing. "Don't you want to see it, Bifur?" The older dwarf made some sort of grunt behind his ale mug –which he was quickly draining.

At that, her cheeks turned deep red. She glanced away, setting her mug down/ "I don't know if I could still do it. I haven't had t' use it for so long…"

"I'm sure you can," Ori told her. "Try thinking of something you really, really want. That could help."

Sighing quietly, Baylee closed her eyes as she thought. Images of her childhood home flooded her mind; she did wish to go back and see her cousins and the few friends who had remained. "Think I've got it," she murmured. Opening her eyes, she put on a rather endearing pout, going so far as to even give her lip a small wobble.

"Dhi hadhidh zurkur Sanna!" Bifur chortled. "Izaruk! Arnâkzu, Bofur?"

"Aye, she does resemble Sanna a wee bit," Bofur smiled. "Sanna's one o' my nieces," he told Baylee. "She's what –three? Four?"

"Gem ra melek," Bifur answered.

"Ah. Three 'n a half. Can't keep track o' all them sometimes. I mean, this next one makes eight lil' rascals. Well…Baraz, Berez, and Biriz aren't too little anymore, but keepin' an eye on all of them is a tough job."

She smiled. "I take it you've had to watch over them a time or two?" He nodded. "I've managed t' luck out o' that. The only folk I know with children know I'm too busy to watch them."

"I've never had to watch dwarrowlings," Ori chirped. "That's the fun thing about being the youngest." He winced slightly as he felt something in his back twinge. Leaning back on his stool, he found himself having to hold onto the table's edge to keep himself from falling. A satisfied 'ahh!' left his mouth as he felt his spine crack a couple of times.

"Aye, but you've been overly mothered by a certain older brother of yours," Bofur told him. "I'm still surprised Dori let you stay down here. Did Nori have to hit him upside the head with his mace?"

He sat up straight once more. "No. Just acting like a chicken did the trick." He finished his ale. "Miss Baylee, when does your uncle normally go down to Esgaroth?"

"Usually in the middle of spring, when the roses and lavender are freshly bloomed," she answered. "He says that's when their oils are at their strongest."

Ori nodded slowly in understanding. Dwarves didn't use many plants when it came to healing; they preferred to keep plants in their food. For healing, they preferred special sorts of clay and pastes that used minerals from the earth. Oin, he knew, liked to use plants when he tended to injures, mostly because they didn't make as big of a mess –but he had also had far more dealings with men than most of the rest of the Company.

"There," Bofur spoke up, bringing Ori out of his thoughts. "That should do it. Just give it a couple o' hours and your hands should be as good as new."

Baylee looked them over; already the redness was beginning to subside and the cracks in her skin didn't seem nearly as bad. "Thank you," she told him, giving him an appreciative smile. "They're already feelin' ten times better." She glanced up, seeing Will, Demelza, and Wenna wandering about the common room, bringing food and drink to various customers and she started to feel a little guilty for not helping. "Well, lads, I think I should go help the others now," she told them as she stood up. "As such, what'll be for your dinners?"

"Thought you'd never ask," Bofur teased.


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

Over the course of the next two weeks, much work had been accomplished at Bifur and Bofur's shop. Once they had managed to get their new window installed (Will doing most of the work on that), their pace in cleaning and building nearly doubled. Part of the work they had been forced to give out to other furniture makers, for Will was already quite busy building the display shelves for the front of the store. He had referred the dwarves to some of his friends and managed to get them a bit of a discount for all the things they would be buying.

While they waited on the furniture, they turned their attention to the plain, white walls. It had taken the better part of four days to cover them in a new layer of plaster, but now that they were set and dried, they were ready for their first coat of paint. The only problem was, though, deciding on a color. Or colors. The two of them weren't quite sure yet.

"I really think a rich, golden yellow would look nice in here."

"Tsahif? Ranakuh danuk."

"Green?"

"Za."

"Why green?"

Bifur shrugged. "Khama khi ghelekh inzurul. Hôfuk inzurul."

"Well, yes it's a good color but…green everywhere wouldn't look too good. It'd make us feel like we're in a forest again. You wouldn't want that, would you? I mean…you were begging t' get out of Mirkwood when we got trapped in it."

"Kulhu yomul khagol? Shathûl."

Bofur scratched his beard, looking around the room. "I think blue would be good on the ceiling. Maybe we could get Ori t' paint a big ol' sun right in the middle where the chandelier will hang?" He glanced at his cousin, seeing him nod approvingly. "So. Blue for the ceiling."

"Kulhu nê unùkhudhabmâ mahzurm lî zaharab?" he suggested, combing his fingers through his beard in a thoughtful manner. He pointed at a wall, making various gestures with his hands by now. "Beknu hund ra zurm ra nungûng lî ayazahar. Khîm âzyung khi."

Bofur was silent for a moment as he took another look around. He held his chin between his index finger and thumb, pondering deeply the words that Bifur had spoken. To have the walls painted like the outside, with trees and flowers and rolling hills would make the place seem more childlike, he thought, and it could make the place seem more open and inviting. Especially when they brought in their wares and hung their kites and flags from the ceiling…

"I like it," he spoke at last, grinning. "Looks like we'll be havin' to keep young Ori here for a while longer than Dori would like."

Bifur snorted. "Dori khund tunuz."

"Of course he would. He's a mother hen."

Again, Bifur snorted. "Bock bock," he snickered.

"Hey!" Bofur patted him heartily on the back. "That's almost speakin' Westron!" He blinked, pausing as he heard the door open. Turning around, he found Ori poking his head in. "Ah, just the dwarrow we were lookin' for!" he smiled. Walking over to the younger dwarf, he clapped him on the back. "How'd you like to stay in Dale another two weeks?" he offered.

Ori's eyes widened and grinned. "I'd really like that," he said. He was supposed to go back to Erebor that day and he had not been looking forward to it at all. His newfound freedom was all too enjoyable. "But…what could convince Dori?"

Happily rocking on his heels, Bofur put his hands behind his back. "Well, it would seem that Bifur and I are in need o' some help painting this place up," he explained. "And, well…you're an artistic lad, Ori. Bifur and me are only good at painting when it comes to little wooden figures or on kites. We're hopeless when it comes to big things like rooms. Splatter paint everywhere, we do. Why, you should see my room back in our mansion! It's a hideous mess." That, of course, was a lie; his room in the mansion had been painted quite a lovely shade of robin's egg blue.

Coming fully into the shop, Ori closed the door behind him. "Well…ah, when would you like me to get started?" he asked. "And what colors were you thinking?"

"Ranakmâ unùkhudhab hund, zurm, ra nungûng ayazahar. Ya'khagol uberenjmuz tsahifur ûzud ayamelhek khun khud tum," Bifur explained, using his hands to help further explain their ideas. While he spoke, Ori listened and watched carefully, nodding once in awhile to show that he understood.

"So," said the young dwarf, "you want me to paint a big mural." He walked over to the closet wall. "And you want it to basically be this big open field with all these flowers and hills and trees?" While talking, he ran his hand along the surface of the plaster; it felt smooth enough to take a coat or two of paint without many spots left behind.

"All sorts o' different flowers," Bofur told him. "But they don't have t' look perfect. This is a toyshop, not a king's palace. An' we'd like it if you got started as soon as you could. After all, young William's nearly got the first o' our shelves done."

He nodded again. "Well, looks like I'll have to search out Dale's market for the right minerals to make the paints then," he grinned, slightly rubbing his hands together. He was already itching to get started. "But if I can't find them here, I know I can get them in Erebor."

"Ah, don't worry about it, lad." Bofur patted him on the shoulder. "Bifur an' me will be going to Erebor in the next few days to gather up our wares and visit the family. See if Gerdi's given birth yet. It'd be a shame if we missed that feast…"

He nodded in understanding. "Alright. I'll still keep my eye out, though. I still have to paint that sign once Will finishes it and I don't know if I'll run out of paint by then." He smiled sheepishly.

The door to the shop opened again and the dwarves turned, expecting to see Baylee stepping through with a basket of food (it had become a habit of hers to bring them lunch) but they were shocked to instead find Nori coming into the building –and Dori was nowhere in sight. He wore a small grin as he saw his brother and friends and he came into the shop, closing the door behind him. With a small pack on his back, it seemed he was ready to go off on an adventure.

"Nori?" Ori blinked, his head tilted.

"What in the world brings ya here?" Bofur asked, his head tilting as well, but in the opposite direction. "You're the last dwarrow I expected t' see walkin' in here. Well, next t' Dwalin, but really. Why would Dwalin want t' come into a toy shop of all places?"

Nori raised his braided brow before grinning in a friendly way, though his little brother was able to see some nervousness behind the look. "Well, with Ori supposed t' be coming back today," he began, "I thought I'd come here and keep an eye on him so he could stay for a bit longer. You know, keep him out of Dori's nest so he can stretch his wings a bit more." He shrugged. "And just to see how you lot have been doing." Glancing around, he could see that the building had been vastly improved since he had first seen it nearly a month ago. "It's looking good in here."

"Durinme turg, khi sakhab ghelekh!" Bifur grinned. "Khi katâhhôr ughlekh darûnur."

Nodding, Nori hooked his thumbs in his belt. "I would imagine. This window already lets in a lot more light; you won't be needing to light any candles until the moon's well in the sky."

Bofur wrapped his arm around Ori's shoulder, grinning. "Ori here is goin' to be paintin' this room up to look like the fields," he boasted to Nori. "So even if Dori wanted him back, he can't have him. It'll be two weeks at the very least, because there's also a sign he needs to paint."

"Is that so?" Nori tilted his head, looking at his little brother with some pride in his eyes. "You're just having the time of your life here, aren't you?"

Ori managed a small smile and nodded, though he didn't say another; he was still curious as to why Nori was really here. Nori wasn't the type to show up out of the blue without reason –and that reasoning was normally on the wrong side of the law.

Grinning, Nori peeked past the three and into the back room. "Is that to be your work room or the kitchen?" he inquired.

Bofur grabbed his arm, leading him off to show him around. "Actually, it's a bit of a store room, kitchen, and work room. The real work room, though, is up here-" He started to lead Nori towards the stairs, but Ori hurried over, grabbing his brother's other arm.

"Actually, Nori, a word?" He gave his brother a look before giving Bofur an apologetic smile. "Excuse us."

Dragging Nori off before either he or Bofur could argue, he tugged him outside. Across the yard (which they had yet to tend to), Will was shaving planks of sturdy wood down to smoothness. He gave the two dwarves a small wave before continuing his work. Ori pulled Nori to a secluded corner that was mostly taken up by an ancient-looking plum tree and a large, bushy honeysuckle plant.

"Ori, what's the big deal?" Nori demanded, pulling his arm away from his little brother.

Glancing around to make sure they would not be overheard, Ori crossed his arms, wearing a slight pout. "What happened?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," he told him, his tone defensive –too defensive to be believable.

"You're nervous! You only get nervous when you've done something that goes against the law," he argued, staring up at his brother. "Otherwise, you would be there and not here. So you can stop your lying. I've heard all the excuses time an' time again."

A defeated sigh left Nori's mouth and he glanced away. "It's nothin' serious, khînadad," he gently told him. "There's just been some bad air stirred up between me 'n another male-"

"What did you do?" he demanded again. "If you're here and not there, it's bad."

Nori rubbed his face, feeling both rather frustrated and guilty. "I may have had too much to drink one night…" He trailed off.

"Go on," Ori said, brows knitted together quite tightly.

He cursed under his breath. "You know that human apprentice of Malzîr Stonehewer?" Ori nodded. "Well, he 'n his wife were at my favorite tavern along with a few other humans. Well, we got goin' in a game of dice. There was ale and beer and gold a'plenty on that table, so I thought I could sneak myself some extra gold-"

"You don't need extra gold! You got a fourteenth share from Dain-"

"I was drunk and they were drunk," he said flatly. He shook his head. "Well, I won their gold."

Ori raised his brow. "That's hardly ever gotten you in trouble. You've become too good at cheating people out of their money with dice."

"And it didn't get me in trouble this time, either. The fact I left with the lad's wife, however…" Ori's eyes widened and his mouth fell open, gawking at his brother. Nori wore a sheepish grin.

He hit his brother's arm, a large frown on his face. "Nori! I thought you had left that life behind you!" He managed to keep himself from shouting. "You can't keep bedding other people's wives, even if they're human! It still goes against our laws-" He was silenced as Nori clapped his hand over his mouth.

"I know," he told his little brother quietly. "It was a slip of judgment, Ori. Like I said, I was drunk. But the lass –oh no, she was sober. She didn't have a drink of alcohol that whole night. She's just as guilty as me –more so, since she was the one dragging me out the door." He shook his head, his braided bits of beard flicking back and forth. "Everything's going to be alright," he reassured him, letting go of his mouth.

Ori looked away, the hurt too clear on his face. "Do you know how many times you've said that to me and things weren't alright?" he asked quietly. He looked down at the ground, kicking a rock into the honeysuckle. "I'm tired of seeing you in jail, Nori. If you get caught again, Dori won't bail you out and…and I don't know if I would bail you out either." He glanced up as Nori set his hand on his shoulder.

"I know, khînadad," he agreed, "and I know I shouldn't have done it. But it's happened and here I am for awhile. But –you've got to admit one thing."

"What's that?"

"First offense in five years." He grinned. "It's been a long while." He blinked as Ori suddenly poked him in the center of his chest, a scolding look on his features. If he hadn't been so startled, he would have laughed; with his cheeks slightly puffed out and the scowl on his lips, he looked quite a bit like Dori.

"You better not try any of that while you're here –especially if you're stayin' at the Tankard!" his younger brother warned. "Miss Baylee an' her family have been nothing but helpful to us and it'd be more than a little rude to have some of our folk dragging you out of their establishment an' soiling its good name!" He glanced past his brother, making sure that they hadn't caught Will's attention; they hadn't.

Nori set both hands on his shoulders now. "Don't you worry your lil' braided head, khînadad," he chuckled. "I swear that nothing of the sort will happen."

Letting out a quiet sigh, Ori nodded. He said nothing though; he knew that Nori couldn't keep all of his promises. He had learned that at a relatively young age. His middle brother used to promise to take him on his 'adventures' or let him join him when he went to the market. Those promises rarely came to fruition.

"Does Dori know you're here?"

"Aye, he does. I wasn't lyin' when I said I was coming to watch over you so you could stay a bit longer." He patted his little brother on the back. "I know you like it here; anyway, it's good for you to be away from the mansion for a bit."

His brow rose. "So he doesn't know…?" Nori shook his head. "If he finds out, he'll cut your beard off, you know that, right?"

Nori smirked. "All the more reason to be here and not there."

"Bróðir! Ég leiddi yður mat svo koma og borða!"

The two dwarves jumped, looking at the doorway in surprise. Baylee was standing there, her hands on her hips as she looked at her brother, who seemed to have been just as surprised as them. He turned, seeing her. He raised his brow, setting down his tools and starting to walk towards her.

"Það er ekki kurteisi að tala í tungumálum aðrir geta ekki skilið, Baylee," he told her, using the same language that she had used to call him over. "Vinir okkar getur held að við erum að segja leyndarmál."

Her brows furrowed. "Hvað?" Will nodded to the corner of the yard and she turned. As soon as she spotted the dwarves, her cheeks turned deep red. "Oh, hello lads!" Biting her tongue in embarrassment, she gave them an apologetic smile. "Sorry I didn't see ya there –oh! Master Nori, pleasant t' be seeing you again!"

He gave her a small bow. "At your service," he chuckled.

Ori had his head tilted. "What language was that?" he inquired. He thought it sounded familiar, but he couldn't quite place it.

She shrugged. "Not sure if it has a name, really. Northern, I guess?" She looked at Will, who also shrugged. "It's our native tongue. It was spoken quite openly down in Lake-Town, but now that we're up in Dale an' are gettin' so much more trade an' foreign visitors, I guess it's just become habit t' use Westron when we're out in the open like this."

He nodded slowly, digesting her words. Then, he whipped out his travel notebook and, pulling a sharpened stick of graphite from somewhere up his sleeve, he started to scribble something across the page. Leaning over his shoulder, Nori glanced down at what he wrote.

"Ah, you've got him interested," he warned the human siblings. "He'll be askin' you to talk in that tongue for a long while now."

Ori's cheeks turned pink and he indignantly looked away. "I like learning new things," he retorted, snapping the book shut and retying it to his belt.

Bofur poked his head out of the back door, his brow raised. He then held aloft an entire meat pie as if it were some precious piece of treasure. "Food," he told them, trying to make his voice sound somewhat mystical. "Bifur and I will eat it all before—Oi! I wasn't done yet, you!" Nori had snatched the pie off of his hand and darted inside the building past him. "Get back here! That's my pie!" he cried, chasing after him.

Baylee and Will burst out laughing while Ori shook his head. 'Nori,' he thought, 'causes trouble everywhere he goes…'

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Warren quietly sighed as he leaned over a table, wiping down its surface. It was a couple of hours until dinner, leaving the common room rather empty; only two people were eating and they were Demelza and Richard. They were discussing plans about Richard traveling to Lake Town in the coming weeks and which route down would be safest.

He shook his head slightly and went to go clean the bar down. Unless a great need arose, he would not go back to the city anytime soon. It bore too much sorrow for him, especially after the War.

"Papa?" He glanced up, hearing his daughter's voice. Baylee was standing in front of him, looking at him with some concern. "Are you alright?" She was holding something behind her back.

"I'm fine, 'Lee," he reassured her, a smile on his lips. "What do ya need?"

She glanced over at her aunt and uncle, the latter watching her. "Well…two things. First o' all…" Setting a basket on the bar, she tugged back a cloth that covered its contents. "I got ya a little present."

Peering in, Warren could see that the basket was filled with all sorts of sweets ranging from hard candies to soft caramels and even a few of his favorite sorts of cookies. He grinned, his large hand reaching in to take some of the treats before he stopped himself. A cautious look came to his features and he looked at his daughter, who was smiling innocently.

"What do you want?" he asked, brow rising. "You only get me candy when you want somethin' an' don't you try to deny it, 'Lee." Standing up, he crossed his arms and gave her a rather fatherly look.

She pouted. "Uncle Richard wants me t' come with him t' Lake Town," she told him, knowing it would be useless to sugar-coat her words, "an' I want t' know if-"

"No," he answered before she could finish.

"Why not?"

"It's dangerous." He plucked one of the hard candies out of the basket and, unwrapping it from its paper, tossed it in his mouth. "It's a five-day journey and with this news of raiders attacking the Dorwinion trading caravans, I don't want my daughter risking her neck."

She frowned –an expression he was not quite used to seeing on his daughter. "But those are t' the east, papa! We'll be goin' south an' travelin' by river for the trip down. That'll cut that part o' the journey down t' three days –two, if the river is movin' fast enough. Uncle plans on stayin' at Winifred an' Jorvik's inn for the week an' then we'll walk back up here. We would barely be gone for three weeks!" A pleading look came to her features as she looked up at him.

His brow rose as he stared down at her; the pleading look almost made him want to give in. His bushy brows were pressed together as he thought over her words. "Just because we've heard no news of raids to the south doesn't mean they aren't likely," he at last told her, his voice stern. "What if you two were to get attacked? Your uncle is no fighter, Baylee, and it's been five years since you last used a weapon."

She bit her tongue, her eyes darting away from him for a moment. "I'll…I'll start sparring with Will and Aunt Demelza again," she murmured. Her eyes looked up at him, determination in them. Warren knew that look all too well; he had seen it in his late-wife's eyes all too often. "And, on the off chance we are attacked, at least one o' us will be able to take some defensive measures." Something in the corner of her vision moved; glancing over, she saw Richard moving towards them.

"If I may add, Warren," he said, "it will not be just us two traveling. A few other healers will be joining us, as well as my brother an' his sons. We will have more than enough brave warriors with us." A reassuring smile came to his lips.

Warren scratched his beard; a sign that he was deep in thought. Baylee waited with baited breath, feeling her uncle rest his hand on her shoulder. At last, he let out a heavy, defeated sigh. "I still want her to spar with Demelza or Will," he told the two of them. "Just in case. So long as ya practice every day…" he paused, watching as a grin slowly came to his daughter's lips, "you can go." Half of a smile came to his lips.

Baylee darted around the bar and hopped up, giving him a tight hug. "Thank ya, papa!" she grinned, her feet dangling off of the ground as she clung to him. Sometimes, he forgot just how small she was compared to him.

He rolled his eyes, though wore a small grin. "Oh, stop it," he murmured, gently pushing her back down. "Demelza!" he called. His sister-in-law looked up. "You up for a sparrin' match?"

And so it was, when William and the dwarves returned to the inn that evening, they were greeted by the sounds of clashing metal and feminine grunts coming from the inn yard. Confused, the males poked their head around the corner just in time to see Baylee get knocked to the ground by her aunt, a dented sword flying out of her hand. Bofur let out a small curse and started to dart forward, but Bifur quickly grabbed hold of his pigtails, holding him back.

Baylee grunted and scrambled onto her knees, darting out of the way as Demelza lunged at her, two axes in her hands. They had been wrapped in thick cloth, blunting their edges to make the sparring less dangerous. Scooping up her sword, Baylee charged forward, starting to swing at her aunt, who merely stepped aside. Demelza was a little surprised when she realized that Baylee had feinted, the dull point of the sword pressed into her stomach.

"Kill for me," Baylee panted before collapsing onto her knees. Burying the end of her sword in the earth, she grasped its hilt and rested her forehead on the pommel, shoulders heaving from the effort of breathing.

Demelza leaned to one side, a hand resting on her hip as she, too, panted. "That's two kills for you," she told her, "an' six for me." Wincing, she walked over to the kitchen window and pulled down a mug, intending to take a drink. She frowned, finding it empty.

"What's going on?" Will demanded. He hurried to Baylee's side, kneeling down next to her. "Are you alright?" He gave her a look that was both worried and brotherly; he had nearly forgotten that Baylee knew how to fight. In their youth, he had protested to her learning, but their mother and aunt ignored his protests. In the end, it ended up being for the better that she had learned.

She tried to wave him off. "Fine. Sparring. Going with Uncle."

Spotting a second mug on the sill, Bofur hurried over and grabbed it. It, too, was empty, so he went to the well to fill it. Demelza joined him, leaning against the wall as the bucket was pulled up.

Will's eyes lit up. "Dad allowed it?" She nodded. "That's great! When are you two leaving?"

"Next month," Demelza answered. "But she only gets to go if she spars every day with either you or me." She still sounded a bit breathless, but, unlike her niece, she was used to the toils of fighting and could recover quicker. "She's quite rusty."

Bofur walked over to the siblings and helped Baylee to drink some of the water; her hands were shaking quite a bit from the rush of the fight. His hand lightly cupped her chin, catching any water that dribbled. "I honestly didn't expect you t' know how to use a sword," he admitted, his brows furrowed. "You're too gentle to know how to use one."

She let out a small laugh, taking the mug from him when she had drank her fill. "I know how t' use them, but I don't really like to," she said, moving to sit on her hindquarters. She leaned against her brother, tilting her head back against his arm. Bofur tossed aside whatever water fell into his palm before wiping his hand on his shirt. "Thank you, by the way. I needed that."

He nodded, his cheeks ever so slightly pink.

Nori offered her a handkerchief to wipe the sweat from her face and neck. It wasn't his anyway; he had nicked it from some merchant in Erebor that morning. Ori would never know. "There aren't many out there who actually like to use their weapons," he told her, "and those that do are either evil or not quite right in the mind."

Demelza nodded in agreement. "It's a burden and a blessing, knowing how to fight. On one side, you can protect the ones you love. On the other, that can sometimes require taking another's life. It's not so bad when it's goblins or orcs or wargs-" Bofur shuddered at the mention of the monstrous wolves, "-but when it's other humans or possibly dwarves? Then it becomes a burden." There was a grave look in her eyes as she spoke, but it softened as she looked at Baylee and Will huddled together. "You're going to be sore in the morning. Drink plenty of water and see your uncle about some herbs t' help ease that pain a bit."

She nodded tiredly, watching as her aunt went back inside. Beside her, Bifur drew the sword out of the ground, his eyes inspecting every inch of it. He scrunched his nose up in distaste. "Zagar'ala gulur," he said, shaking his head. "Guzukh'ala hakhûn…shazurn goleznîc…" He looked at Baylee, his brow raised. "Mahmazarzu alùr?" he asked, flabbergasted.

"He doesn't like the craftsmanship," Ori quickly translated. "He thinks the sword is…well, it's rubbish."

"That's because it is," Will agreed. "It was left at the inn back in Lake Town by some half-crazed blacksmith. Never came back for it, so we just use it for sparring now."

Bifur stuck his tongue out. "Kuf aslâb khi? Khi oghelekh." He held out two fingers and tried to balance the sword on them; no matter what he tried, the weapon would not come to balance.

"It's one o' the reasons I'm so tired," Baylee chuckled, getting the gist of what he had said. "It's too heavy for its size an' I can't get a good swing in with it. But it's the only sword I can practice with. Papa and Will don't have any."

"What weapons do you use?" Nori asked, glancing around the inn yard. He was starting to smell the evening's meal cooking; it was making him rather hungry.

Pulling away from his sister and standing, Will brushed his knees off. "I've got a morning star," he told him, "and our dad's got a big ol' war hammer somewhere." He watched as Bofur helped Baylee to her feet. "Baylee's dainty though, so she gets to use a sword, no matter how poorly made it is."

"I'm good with axes, though," she pouted.

Will ruffled her hair, watching as she tiredly tried to bat his hands away. "Aye, you are, but you're better with a sword and shield. But you know what you're best at?"

Her brow rose. "What?"

"Smiling and serving customers."

"Oh, aye, I'll agree with that," Bofur chirped. He blinked, not having meant to say that out loud. Nori, Ori, and Bifur raise their brows as they looked at him. "Er, that is to say, you're one o' the best inn-maidens that we've had the pleasure o' being served by," he said quickly, trying to cover himself up. "I mean, you know when t' fill our drinks, just how much food we like on our plates…that sort o' thing. And you're always full o' good conversation, just like a good inn-maid should be…"

He finally managed to stop rambling when Bifur subtly, but painfully, stamped on his foot. He was quite aware of the looks he was receiving from his fellow dwarves. What terrified him, however, was the look Will was giving him –he felt like his very soul was being searched inch by inch.

Baylee, however, laughed, her cheeks still red –whether from the sparring or from the flood of compliments, even she didn't quite know. "Well, thank-you," she smiled, "though I'm quite sure there are better out there."

"Not many can balance a tray of beer mugs on their head, though," Nori grinned.

Will chuckled, setting his hands on her shoulder. "Let's get you inside and cleaned up. Smells like the night meal is almost ready." He started to steer her off, glancing over his shoulder at the group of dwarves.

Bifur crossed his arms as he gave his cousin an unimpressed look. "Kulhu tada?" he asked.

"What was what?" Bofur asked, brows furrowing. "There's no thats to be what-ed about."

His brow rose. "'Shândabme utada'," he repeated, somewhat imitating the semi-dreamy tone Bofur had spoken in. He grinned, seeing his cousin become fluster.

"She's a good inn-maid!" he argued, feeling quite embarrassed with himself. Why had he gone off rambling like that? He knew he had a tendency to blurt things out, but not like that…

Smirking at the others, Bifur shook his head and started to walk off. Nori snickered, following after him with Ori in tow.

"There's nothin' wrong with appreciating a good inn-maid!" Bofur pouted, following behind the others. 'Though, she does have herself a pretty smile…' he thought –and managed to keep inside his head.

~*~*~*~*~

"Baylee! Oi, Baylee!" It was barely a loud whisper, but it echoed through the dead of night, growing louder in some places and quieter in others.

She grunted in her sleep and rolled over only to wince in pain; her entire body was stiff and sore. Pulling her blanket closer to her shoulders, she mumbled to herself and snuggled into her pillow.

"Baylee, I know you can hear me!"

Quietly growling, she sat up, peering through the darkness for her brother. "What is it, William?" she grumbled, rubbing her eyes. Her arms protested against even the slightest bit of movement; she made a note to see her uncle as soon as he was awake.

"Shh! Don't let dad hear you!" The voice wasn't coming from within her room.

She frowned, looking at her window. "What the…?" Leaning over, she undid the lock and opened it wide enough to stick her head out. Her eyes widened as she found her brother standing on a tree limb that was just below his window. "Will! What are you doing out at this time o' night!?" She tilted her head slightly, wondering if any strong branches reached her window.

He grinned innocently. "I'll tell you when you unlock my window. Is that a deal?"

"Deal," she sighed. Shaking her head, Baylee pulled herself back into her room and closed the window. Being as quiet as she possibly could, she crept out of her room and down the hallway to her brother's door. Once inside his room, she unlocked his window and flung it open, her brow raised in a rather scolding look.

"Mind tellin' me now?" she asked, leaning out of the window and offering her hand to her brother. She winced again.

"Er…I wanted t' go for a walk." Taking her hand, he hauled himself back into his room; he would have been able to do it without her help, but was thankful for the extra boost.

She crossed her arms once he was firmly standing on the floor. "A walk?"

"Aye, a walk. 'Tis a lovely evening for one." Will sat down on his bed, starting to unlace his boots. Baylee closed his window and locked it up once more. "Especially if it's a walk with a pretty, red-haired lass…"

Her eyes widened and she spun around. "You were out with Adela Stover, weren't you?" she gasped. His quickly-reddening cheeks and the fact he looked away gave her answer enough. "Oh, if papa finds out, he'll have your hide for curtains…"

"Which is why he won't find out –at least, not for the time being." He set his boots under the bed, sighing in a rather dream-like manner. "She's so pretty, though…and she made me the most delicious custard. It had bacon and ham and spinach in it." There was a silly grin on his lips as he closed his eyes and remembered how his evening had been spent.

Baylee raised her brow. "She's also the daughter o' papa's biggest rival an' two years older than you."

He flopped backwards, arms outspread on the bed. "I know," he groaned. "But, Baylee…" His grin returned. "She's going to be my wife someday, I just know it. She's a great cook, she's sweet, she's got gorgeous long, red hair and bright, blue eyes…she's everything my perfect girl could ever be."

She sat next to him, poking his side and making him flinch; he was ticklish there. "And she sees past your scars," she added. "Also helps that she likes it when you do the goofy smile you're doin' right now."

Will stared at her, his hands still protecting his side from being poked again. "How do you know?"

"Hm. I guess an old thrust came by an' told me," she mused. Glancing at her brother, she saw that he was staring rather incredulously at her and she rolled her eyes. "I've talked to her, ya lout."

"You have? What else did she say about me?"

Managing to get her hand past his defenses, she once more poked him in the side. "That you should get yourself t' bed because you've a long day o' work ahead o' you." Standing up, she shook her head. "And next time you sneak out at night, Will, make sure ya leave through the same way you'll be comin' back in through, alright?" Tilting her head as she glanced back at him, she could barely make out a red mark on his neck.

He watched her, curious. "So…you won't tell dad?"

She shrugged. "Why would I? Adela makes you happy an' I don't want papa t' keep that from you. Especially since she seems like the only lass in this city who knows that you're more 'n just warg scars. Though, I suggest you wear a collared shirt tomorrow; looks like she got a bit too friendly with you."

A thankful smile came to his lips as he looked up at her. "Sometimes, Baylee, I wonder if I couldn't get a better sister 'n you," he told her. "If ever you find a man you want to court that dad doesn't approve of, let me know. I'll help you sneak out at night."

She laughed. "Oh, aye, I'm sure that'll happen soon," she told him, her tone full of sarcasm.

He shrugged. "Same goes if you find a dwarf," he offered.

Her brow rose at his comment. "A dwarf?" she repeated with a small laugh. "Why do you say that?"

Again, he shrugged, turning himself so that he was properly lying in bed. "You never know. I mean, you're getting quite close to those dwarf lads." He glanced at her from the corner of his eye. "You may find yourself married t' one someday."

"I think they prefer their women shorter and hairier than me," she giggled.

He gave her a look. "Baylee…you're not even a span taller than Bofur and Nori. I think you've got 'short' covered. Hairy? No, but let your hair grow long enough…" He grinned, shielding himself as Baylee stole his pillow and thwacked him with it.

Suddenly, the door opened and candlelight flooded into the room. The siblings looked up, their eyes wide in shock only to find the outline of their father standing in the doorway.

"What is all this ruckus?" he demanded. He sounded tired; they knew they had woke him up. "Baylee, why are you in your brother's room?"

"I had a nightmare," she said, almost automatically, "so I came in here an' Will helped calm me down."

They could just barely see the frown that came to Warren's face. "You had a nightmare?" She nodded, looking down at the floor with a convincing sniffle. "Oh, Yavanna's earth, Baylee…" he murmured, his tone apologetic. "I'm sorry."

Will sat up, taking the pillow from her. "I had just made her forget about it, too," he said, his tone slightly scolding towards his father. He pulled Baylee down and hugged her, his chin resting atop her head.

Warren winced slightly; he hoped she wouldn't have another one that night. "Well…make her forget again –but do it quietly, alright? If you woke me up, I'm hopin' you didn't wake whomever's upstairs as well."

"Sorry, dad."

"Sorry, papa."

"Goodnight, you two." Shaking his head, he closed the door and let them be.

Will cocked his hear, listening for when their dad's footsteps retreated down the hall. "That was close," he murmured.

Baylee yawned. "Aye, it was. Now let me get back to bed so I can finish sleepin', eh? The sooner I sleep, the sooner I can get some medicine from uncle for these aches."

"Just think –you get to hurt all over again later today!" he beamed.

She cursed at the mere thought of it.


	8. Chapter 8

Something was off.

He couldn't say what, exactly, was off. He just knew that something was off.

Bofur opened his eyes and just lay still in his bed. The dim, white light in the room let him know that it was both just barely past sunrise and a cloudless morning. Across from his bed, Bifur was snoring into his pillow and Ori was quietly mumbling in his sleep. Downstairs, he could scarcely hear someone singing as they started breakfast.

'Baylee or Will. Possibly both,' he thought with a yawn. 'Too early for Galiene yet.'

Sitting up, he glanced around the room. Everything was exactly where it had been left the night before, letting him know that Nori hadn't suddenly turned on them and stolen everything. That was always a good thing. He stroked the right side of his long mustache, trying to figure out why he felt odd.

'I should go see Bombur.' The thought had come quite out of the blue; it had nearly startled him, in fact. His brows furrowed, for he only got thoughts like that when something big was about to happen.

Being as quiet as he could, he slid out of bed and walked over to the washbasin. Filling it about an inch deep with water, he went about washing his face and hands before looking up and out of the window. His reflection told him that it was past time to redo his braids. When he bathed two days ago, he had left them in, having been too tired to deal with properly washing his hair. Now, it was really beginning to show.

'I'll do it while grabbing a bite,' he thought, tugging on his trousers with one hand. The other untied the leather thongs that bound his hair, letting the two braids unravel about his shoulders as he shook his head. 'I think it'll be just porridge this morning…'

Soon enough, he was making his way down the stairs, having left a note for the others to find when they woke up. A sweet scent filled the air; he recognized it as Baylee's berry bread and he smiled. If he waited long enough, he could ask her if he could buy a loaf and take it home with him. He was sure the family would appreciate the little gift. Nearing the kitchen, he could hear voices from within –but only one was Baylee's.

"You are improvin', I'll give you that, 'Lee." That was most definitely Warren's voice. "An' look at your arms!" He laughed. "They'll be as big as Will's soon enough. Maybe we should start trainin' you with his mace? That'll get 'em to grow mighty fast."

Bofur poked his head into the kitchen, seeing that Warren was sitting still as Baylee braided half of his beard for him.

"I just want 'em to stop aching. Just when I think I'm gettin' used to one weapon, Aunt Demelza will make me use the other," she sighed, her voice slightly muffled by the length of cord between her teeth.

"Well, it's good for you. Swords aren't always available; you got t' know how to use an axe or two as well. I'd let you use my hammer, but I doubt you'd be able t' lift it."

She rolled her eyes, setting down her brush and pulling the cord from betwixt her teeth, using it to tie off the braid. "Oh, shush. I probably could…" She let out a sigh as she finished tying the strip of leather around the braid she had put in her father's beard. "Not that I'd want to, mind you. That thing would tire me out quicker 'n the no-good sword I've got." Stepping back, she brushed a lock of hair out of her face and glanced up to see Bofur entering the kitchen. "Ah, good mornin', Bofur!" she smiled.

Warren turned on his stool, a long pipe held in his hand as he looked at the dwarf. "Let me guess –lots o' ham an' biscuits for ya this morning?" he joked, some smoke coming out of his mouth and nose. "Or perhaps some bacon an' eggs?"

Baylee tilted her head slightly, noticing that Bofur's hair hung loosely about his shoulders. 'He looks quite handsome with it down,' she found herself thinking.

"Ah, on a normal morning, that'd be quite lovely," the dwarf chuckled, "but I've business in Erebor today, so it'll just be some porridge. I'd like t' get an early start."

Warren tilted his head. "Mind me askin' what sort of business?"

He shrugged as he sat down on a stool, Baylee moving to get him a bowl of porridge. Taking off his hat, he began the process of trying to comb through his hair. "Don't know quite yet, t' be honest. Somethin' in my gut is just tellin' me to go there today. As such, I may be gone a couple o' days, especially if it's anything big."

Warren nodded slowly; it had been nearly two months since the dwarf had left Dale. "Would you like us t' keep your room for you?" he inquired.

"Oh, that'll be lovely," he smiled. "Well, that is if Bifur and Ori don't come in later. I know Ori's in need o' some minerals for his paints an' Bifur likes to tag along since he can't really speak Westron…Ah, thank you, Baylee!" He grinned as she set a bowl of porridge before him. She also set a wooden mug in front of him. He opened his mouth to ask her what it was, but she spoke before he got the chance.

"Some cider t' help wake you up." She smiled at him before going to sit down on her stool again.

Warren leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. Picking up a spoon, he started to mix some fried vegetables together with a bit of gravy before taking a large bite. "So, you don't know what sort o' business is takin' you t' Erebor; just that y'need to go there?" he inquired.

Nodding, Bofur took a bite of his porridge, his other hand still attempting to comb through his hair. "Well, I know there're three possibilities. One bein' that my brother's wife finally gave birth; two bein' that one o' my old friends has turned up; an' three bein' that there's free beer somewhere." At his last suggestion, father and daughter cracked up. "What? I'm serious! Free beer is always a good thing –unless it's green beer. Then that's just cheating folk out o' a good thing."

Shaking his head, Warren leaned back and dumped the contents of his pipe into the waste bucket; normally, he'd do it in the hearth, but the bucket was half full of water this morning. "Aye, it would be," he agreed, "but at least it wouldn't be rancid beer. When I was a lad, one of the old innkeepers back in Lake Town –oh, he was a horribly greedy bastard!- tried serving beer that had gone bad t' his customers. When they complained, he just laughed at them and told them that they paid for it."

Bofur stuck his tongue out –both because of what the old innkeeper had done and because he had gotten his hand caught in his hair, making eating a bit difficult. "Surely someone must've given the bloke his due…?"

"Oh, aye. He was shoved over the pier into the lake an' made to swim t' shore. He wasn't welcomed back into town after that," he explained. "Lucky for me, the place went up for sale for dirt cheap an' I was able to fix it up. It became the first Tankard." He watched as his daughter got up and walked over to the dwarf. He looked back down at his food, more concerned about filling his empty stomach.

"Here," she quietly laughed, helping Bofur untangle his fingers. "You eat; I'll take care o' this." As she stood behind him, she was unable to see that Bofur's cheeks had grown to be quite red and his eyes widened slightly. Reaching over, she snatched up her brush and started to work the locks free of their tangles. She was careful to not tug on the strange tooth he had tied into his hair.

"Th-thank you, Baylee." He managed to make the words sound quite casual, despite his sudden bout of nervousness. It only slightly helped that Warren was too busy eating to see the dwarf's change in behavior. 'Keep it together, Bofur,' he told himself as he shoved a spoonful of porridge into his mouth. 'She's a human lass; she doesn't know that this is a sign of flirtation amongst us dwarrows. Warren however…' He cautiously eyed her father. 'He may know. Mahal, please don't let him mention anything if he does know!'

Mahal must have been on his side that day.

She freed his hair of a rather large snarl. "It's no trouble," she told him. She was surprised at how soft his hair was –and thick. Her brush was hardly able to get through it all. "Papa an' Will normally have me braid their hair all the time, so I'm used t' it."

He glanced over his shoulder at her, his brow raised in amusement. "But Warren hasn't got any hair…" he thought aloud. As Baylee snorted and turned away, caught in a giggle fit, he grinned innocently at the innkeeper, whose brow had risen at the comment.

Warren finished chewing his bite of food and swallowed. "It all moved," he said matter-of-factly. He stroked one of his beard's braids. "The top o' my head must have been too warm, because around the time I lost all that, I got this beard here."

"Well, I must say, it's quite a fine beard. I'm quite envious of it, to be honest." He glanced at Baylee from the corner of his eye as she started to braid his hair. "I can only seem to grow mine in patches." He lifted his mug and took a drink of the cider. A pleased noise left his throat as he found that it had been warmed with some spices added to it.

Nodding in understanding, Warren reached across the table to a seemingly forgotten plate of food. "Though, that's a fine mustache you've got-" He let out a small curse as his daughter suddenly leaned over and smacked the back of his hand with her brush. "Ow! What was that for, 'Lee?!"

"That's my breakfast an' you know it, papa!" Baylee scolded, pouting at her father.

Bofur snorted into porridge; he had never seen such a large man look so scared of someone so small. "Now tha' is a look a pure terror right there!" he laughed.

"I was goin' for the honey pot!" Warren lied –and none too skillfully.

Baylee rolled her eyes, going back to braiding Bofur's hair. "Am I supposed t' believe that when I've got a nice, large slab o' bacon sittin' atop o' my plate, untouched?" She shook her head, sighing. "By the Master's fair town! At least I now know where Will gets it!"

"Master's fair town?" Bofur repeated, tilting his head curiously. "Don't think I've heard that phrase before…"

Rubbing the back of his hand, Warren got up to make himself some bacon. "It comes from Lake Town. They don't have a king; they have a master they elect from a council of wise elders," he explained.

"Oh!" He suddenly nodded. "Aye, I remember. We met the bloke when the Company passed through on our way t' the Lonely Mountain five years ago." Baylee tied off the right braid and moved to start on the left.

Warren glanced over his shoulder at him. "You…were a part of Thorin Oakenshield's Company?" he asked, sounding a bit dazed.

Bofur nodded as he ate some more of his porridge. Reaching over, he added a bit of honey to sweeten it. Baylee let out a quiet giggle as he accidentally dropped the honey dipper into his bowl and fumbled about, trying to get the porridge off of the dipper. He finally succeeded at the expense of getting honey on his fingers.

Clearing his throat, Warren turned back to the shelf. "You may not want t' be telling that to everyone here in Dale," he gently warned. "Not everyone 'round here appreciates the fact that you lot woke the dragon."

He winced as he licked the honey off of his fingers. "Er…aye, I know," he murmured. After all, Lake Town had been destroyed because of the Company; Smaug thought that their Burglar, Bilbo Baggins, had been working for the men of Lake Town and flew down to destroy the city. Not to mention, most of the Company had gotten a mild case of the Gold Fever and had not been entirely kind to the people of Lake Town or Mirkwood before the War…

But in the end they had come round –even Thorin, who had been taken hardest by the Fever. He may have been lying on his deathbed, but he had come around and apologized for his actions.

"We were all more than a little upset 'bout the news of the town's destruction, but at the time we just…Well, there was so much gold, we let it get to our heads." He rubbed the back of his neck, ashamed. "We came to in the end…"

"Everythin' got sorted out, though," Warren continued. "And you're still more than welcomed here. Me 'n my family are some o' the few who are thankful for your coming." He smiled in a friendly manner as he plopped a large slab of bacon into a frying pan; it started to sizzle right away. "If you hadn't gone back t' Erebor, the dragon wouldn't be gone an' we wouldn't have reclaimed Dale. Truth be told, we wouldn't be rid o' the old Master, either." He scratched his chin through his beard. "That man was about t' drive us into the ground because he kept raising taxes…" Reaching into the pan, he quickly flipped the bacon over with his bare hand. "Even though we went through such hardship, our lives are better now."

"Aye, they are. An' the humans aren't the only ones who had great loss…So I know your pain." Taking another drink for his cider, Bofur looked up at Baylee as she finished braiding; she was frowning. "Somethin' wrong, lass?" he asked.

"I don't understand it," she said, lifting the braid. "Your braids normally curl upwards. But now they're just…hangin' limply." Letting go of the braid, it plopped against his shoulder.

He laughed. "That would be a dwarven secret, lass," he said, his cheeks still a bit red. Scraping the last of the porridge from the bowl, he practically shoveled it into his mouth before standing up. "Maybe when I get back I'll teach ya," he grinned, giving her a small, playful wink. Grabbing his hat, he pulled it down over his head. "Oh, have you any o' that fruit bread o' yours out o' the oven yet?"

"Aye, I've a few loaves cooling," she answered, taking a bite of her breakfast before Warren could try to steal any more of it. She had found that he had managed to steal two of her eggs when she wasn't looking. "Would ya like me t' pack one up for you?" She glanced up at her father as he returned to his seat, setting bacon his plate. Reaching over, she stole one of his gravy-slathered biscuits.

"Oi!" he protested, frowning.

"You stole me eggs; I steal your biscuit."

Chuckling, Bofur shook his head at their antics. "Aye, that'd be lovely," he replied. "How much would it cost for the whole loaf?"

Wiping her fingers on her apron, she moved to a shelf near the pantry. "Eh, consider it a small gift," she told him, grabbing a clean cloth. Laying the cloth out, Baylee searched the loaves out for the biggest one –which, with her luck, was resting on the very back of the shelf.

Warren's brow rose as he watched Bofur slip some coins onto the table near her plate and he chuckled quietly, shaking his head.

~*~

Nearly two and a half hours later found Bofur opening the door to the mansion he shared with his family. Everything seemed oddly quiet. Too quiet for Bombur's family. Normally, the little ones would be running around, laughing and shrieking as they chased one another while Gerdi would be calling for Baraz or Berez to help with the morning's cooking. Bombur would be getting fruitlessly scolded by Biriz for trying to steal bits and pieces from breakfast.

But none of that was happening.

Someone was most definitely cooking; the air was filled with delicious scents. Bofur could smell ham roasting as well as the earthy scent of root vegetables baking. There were some sweeter notes to the air as well; baked desserts, perhaps? Despite his watering mouth and the quiet growl of his stomach –he was still rather hungry, after all- Bofur knew he had to find the source of all the quiet.

"Hello?" he called out. "Anyone home?"

His voice echoed down the passageways as he unraveled his scarf from around his neck and set it on a hook on the wall. His hat and jacket soon joined it and that was when he heard the hurried footsteps racing down the stairs. The whole while, he was careful to not cause any harm to the still-warm loaf of bread tucked into the nook of his arm.

"Bofur! Oh thank Mahal you're home!" Bombur cried as his immense girth burst into the hallway. Grabbing his brother's arm, he started to tug him back up the stairs. "Gerdi's in labor!"

Bofur let out a loud laugh and slapped his knee. "Ah, so that's where everyone is! I was wonderin' why it was so quiet! I was startin' to think you all had gone out or somethin'!"

He shook his head, his great braided ring of a beard swaying back and forth over his large gut. "No, no…Biriz took the little ones over to Dori's for their lessons –you know, to keep things less chaotic. Berez has been in the kitchen and Baraz has been off at his apprenticeship since before dawn. The midwife is with Gerdi now, but I don't know how things are going."

He cocked his brow. "Why not?"

"I'm not allowed in the room."

"What!? Why not? You're the father o' the babe, aren't you? You should be allowed inside!"

Bombur patted his stomach, giving Bofur a small, sad smile. "I get in the way."

Bofur pursed his lips in distaste. "A dwarrow should be with his wife when she's givin' birth. But, I understand the problem. Isn't there anyone in there for Gerdi t' squeeze the hand o' when it comes time?"

Shaking his head again, Bombur sighed. "Everyone is too busy, except me. I think I've nearly worn a track in the hallway from all the pacing I've done this morning." He blinked as Bofur suddenly handed him the wrapped loaf of bread.

"Don't you worry anymore, Bombur; I'll go take care o' her," Bofur reassured his brother. "She needs someone there." He started up the stairs only to stop halfway. Rushing back down, he pointed an accusing finger at Bombur, who was just starting to unwrap the bread. "Take that straight t' Berez an' no stopping for nibbles! I'll know!" And then he darted back up the stairs just as a strangled cry came from down the upstairs hall. He winced slightly; it wouldn't be the first time he had been present for the birth of one of his nieces or nephews.

Nearing the door, he could hear the midwife gently telling Gerdi that it was almost time to start pushing. He knocked on the door before opening it a crack, poking his head in. The midwife looked up, almost ready to remove his head from his shoulders, but the look softened slightly as she found that it was not Bombur like she had been expecting.

"Bofur! Get in here!" Gerdi ordered, her teeth clenched in pain. Her knuckles were white as she gripped the sheets and she flung her head back, eyes screwed shut as she went through another contraction.

He raced to her side, quickly managing to pry her hand from the sheet in favor of gripping his hand. She had an awfully painful grip, but he wouldn't complain. After all, this was the miracle of life taking place –and, with dwarves, it certainly was a miracle. Not many dwarves ended up getting married, let alone having children. Most males were simply too focused on perfecting their craft. Females, who made up barely a third of their population, could be just as distracted, if not more so. So, for Bombur and Gerdi to soon have eight children was a small, albeit needed, boost to their population.

But Bofur didn't care much about population. He only thought about how he was getting another niece or nephew to spoil.

"Where's Bifur?" Gerdi panted, the contraction having passed.

"He's still in Dale," he answered. "He may be out here later, he may not."

She stared at him, horrified. "You left him in Dale!? He cannae speak Westron, Bofur!"

"Don't you worry, Gerdi –Nori 'n Ori are with him." He smiled reassuringly at his sister in law, cringing as she tightly gripped his hand again with the onset of another contraction.

The midwife glanced up at her. "Gerdi, it's time to start pushing," she told her. "I think you know the steps by now."

She winced and nodded. "On the contractions." Glancing up at Bofur, she swallowed hard. "Is Bombur in the hall?"

"More than likely. He's probably eatin' the bread I brought out of nervousness."

An apologetic look came to her features. "Oh, you brought bread?" She clenched her eyes shut again as yet another contraction came and she started to push. Bofur didn't know whether she was putting more force into delivering the baby or into crushing his fingers. "What kind?" she managed to ask through the pain.

"It's a fruity sort o' bread. The innkeeper's daughter makes it," he explained. He knew full well that this was her way of pushing through pain; having others talk to her. It gave her something to focus on. "It's really quite good. I think she uses mead in it, but it's hard t' say. I've never seen her make it; just kneadin' the dough and tossin' it into the oven."

"Bifur said it's a nice inn."

"You're doing good, Gerdi. I can see the baby's head."

Bofur was just barely able to keep himself from leaning over and looking. The first time he had helped Gerdi through childbirth, he had made that mistake –purely because he hadn't been sure just where the baby would come out or even how it would come out. His parents had died long before it had been time to explain such things to their sons. So, when he had leaned over that first –and only- time, he had been left somewhat disturbed and his head aching from both a hard smack and a scolding from the midwife.

"Aye, it's a nice inn," he told her as she started to push again. "Nice 'n clean, good food, tankards are never empty…The family that owns it is very nice, indeed. Very welcoming folk, they are." He held out his other hand, letting Gerdi squeeze it as well. "Will, the innkeeper's son, has been helpin' me 'n Bifur, but I'm sure he's told you about that." She nodded somewhat. "He's a good lad. Strong as an ox, but as gentle as a lamb…Poor bloke doesn't get enough work though; seems a warg decided to make a snack out o' him during the War an' the scars scare most o' the people. I'm goin' to see how he is with makin' toys; maybe Bifur and me can help get him some steady work."

"Seems like a family we'd have to meet," she panted, her eyes shut tightly.

"How're things going?" Bombur called through the door.

Bofur turned slightly. "Everything's goin' well, Bombur! Don't you worry your head! Ah!" He flinched, positive that at least one of his fingers had become dislocated as Gerdi let out a small scream. The pain in his hand was instantly forgotten as he heard the small, ear-piercing wail of a newly born child.

The midwife smiled as she cradled the infant in her arms, wiping away the bodily fluids of childbirth. "It's a wee lil' girl, Miss Gerdi," she called over the child's crying.

"A girl?!" they heard Bombur called through the door. "You hear that, Berez? You've another sister! We need to pull out our finest mead for this!" For Bombur to have three daughters was something just short of a real miracle. He was more than thankful to Mahal.

Gerdi smiled in relief, finally letting go of Bofur's hands. He looked down at his fingers, more than a little surprised to find that there had been no dislocations, though they were quite white from having all the blood squeezed out of them. "Oh, let me see her," she panted, her head resting against her pillow.

"You'll have to wait a few moments, miss," the midwife said. She motioned for Bofur to draw near and he suddenly found himself cradling the infant as the midwife went about cutting the cord connecting mother and child. He smiled down at the baby girl, finding her both cute and a bit odd at the same time –only her face had really been cleaned off, leaving the rest of her body still coated by blood and…other yuck.

Eventually, when she was swaddled up nice and snuggly in a soft blanket, Bofur's niece ceased her crying and looked up at him with wide, curious eyes. For now, they were blue like her mother's, but he was sure they'd grow darker over time; it was not a common thing for dwarves to have light eyes. However, with her thick, red hair, he hoped they would stay blue. It was a pretty combination.

"She's a wee lil' cutie she is," he said, carrying her up so that her mother could have a turn at holding her. "Just like the rest o' your children."

"Look at all that hair!" Gerdi gasped, taking her from him. She smiled tiredly as she looked down at her daughter, eyes full of nothing but adoration for the infant. "Oh, that's the most hair I've seen on a dwarrowling!" She gently ran her fingers through the thick, gingery curls.

The midwife chuckled. "Well, you and your husband do have quite a bit of hair; it's no wonder she's got such a fine head of it! No doubt, when her beard starts coming in, she'll be the envy of her sisters."

Carefully reaching over, Bofur tickled the infant's cheek. She looked at him and toothlessly smiled. Unlike human and elven children, dwarrowlings (and Halflings, but Bofur didn't know that) were born able to smile right away.

"Oh, you did it again!" Gerdi chuckled, giving Bofur a look that was both teasing and scolding. "You stole another first smile, you old codger!"

He grinned cheekily. "I can't help that my nieces an' nephews adore me right from the start."

Gerdi tiredly look at him, her brow raised, though she chuckled. "The next child born in this mansion is going to be yours, do you hear?"

A small, somewhat sad smile came to his lips. "I've lost that chance a long time ago, Gerdi." Patting her on the shoulder, he stood up and looked back down at his niece, any sorrow on his features disappearing almost instantly. "Aw, she is such a cutie…Her papa should see her. Should I fetch Bombur for you?"

She nodded, also gazing back down at her daughter. "Yes, please," she smiled, nuzzling the baby.

Bofur went to the door and opened it. "She's the cutest lil' thing I've seen in a long while," he told his brother. "Now go take a look at your daughter, eh?"

Bombur didn't need telling twice. He practically bowled his older brother over as he hurried into the room, tears of joy rolling down his chubby cheeks and soaking his beard. Bofur smiled at his nephew, who was leaning against the wall, nervously biting at his nails.

"Another sister for you, lad," he chirped, clapping him on the shoulder. He started to lead him off. "You look exhausted. How long have you been up?"

"Since before either o' them," Berez answered, following alongside him. "I was makin' breakfast with mum when she went into labor. Dad sent me off to the midwife as he carried her upstairs."

He nodded in understanding as they walked down the stairs. "Let me guess –you made breakfast for Baraz?"

Berez sighed and nodded. "That dwarrow needs to learn how to do his own cooking instead of getting me up." He yawned, not bothering to cover his mouth. "Oh…dad didn't eat the bread you brought. I made sure o' it. Where'd you get it from?"

"The inn I've been stayin' at," he answered. They came into the hall just as the front door opened, Bifur poking his head in.

"Did I miss anything?" he asked, stepping into the hall. He started to shed his coat.

"A wee lil' girl," Bofur proudly declared. "Barely ten minutes old."

Bifur's face softened at the news and he smiled fondly. "Another girl? That must be some sort of record for our kind." He hung up his jacket and glanced at Berez. "Lad, haven't you slept?"

"Not much," he chuckled. "Baraz makes sure of that."

"I was just about to make him a spot o' tea," Bofur told his cousin. "Care to join us?"

~*~*~*~*~*~

Baylee sighed, her arms laden with two heavy baskets filled past the brim with bricks of soap. As she came into the inn yard, she could see someone bent over at the well as they drew up the bucket of water. When they straightened, she saw a mess of brown curls and knew it had to be Wenna. A sigh of relief left her mouth.

"Wenna, could ya help me out?" she asked, her shoulders aching from the weight. It did not help that one of her shoulders bore a rather large bruise from yesterday's sparring. If she moved just right, her entire back ached.

Wenna glanced up, her eyes wide. "Baylee! I was lookin' all over for you!" She raced over to the other girl, a large grin on her lips as she gripped her shoulders. "Oh, Baylee –wait 'til ya get inside, lass! We got a group of new customers from Dorwinion today an'-"

Baylee's brow rose and she chuckled. She knew well enough that Wenna only got this excited over handsome men and fresh apple pie. Being that apple pie was out of season…"Uh-oh. How handsome are they?" she asked, some sarcasm in her tone.

Biting her lower lip, Wenna glanced around to make sure no one would overhear her. "They are the most handsome lads I've ever set my eyes on, Baylee," she loudly whispered. Taking one of the baskets from Baylee, she grunted quietly and started to lead her over towards the well. "Since they're from Dorwinion, they've got that rich, golden skin an' that dark hair." She let out a dreamy sigh. "Though, the most handsome of the group –I think he's their leader? He's been doin' all the talkin'- has this deep, red hair." She giggled and bit her lower lip again.

Baylee laughed. "I'll believe ya when I see 'em," she mused, doubting the extent of the men's looks. Wenna had a tendency to over exaggerate, especially when it came to males. "For now, help me get this soap into the storage room, aye? My arms are killin' me."

Pulling a key from around her neck, she walked to the very back of the yard and up a small flight of steps to a heavy wooden door that was partially covered by ivy. Unlocking the door, she let Wenna step in first before also entering and locking the door again behind her. Distantly, she could hear the laughter of men and women as they drank and ate.

"When I was in the market, I heard talk that two caravans came in today," she said, setting her basket on a low shelf before beginning to stack the soap. "One of them was attacked by raiders. D'ya know if these blokes are from that caravan or not?" She was careful to separate the linen soap from the bathing soap; she had made the mistake more than once in her youth of grabbing the wrong soap for her bath.

She nodded. "Aye, they are. Your uncle's tended t' a couple of them, but they were able to mostly avoid gettin' hurt. From what they've said, they were attacked just barely a day out from the city."

"That isn't good," she murmured, knowing that this could affect whether or not she would get to go to Lake Town. "Those raiders are gettin' real vicious lately, aren't they?"

Wenna glanced at her as Baylee, too, started to stack soap. "Well, wouldn't you? They live in Manwë knows where and the caravans that travel between Dorwinion, Dale, an' Esgaroth are full o' goods and money. Taking those goods an' gold is their way o' surviving," she chuckled. "It almost sounds like fun."

"They're leeches who attack innocent people out o' greed, Wenna," Baylee told her, her tone stern. "They're no better 'n goblins. You've seen the damage they can do –they don't care if you're man or woman or child; if you're in the way o' the goods they want, they could kill ya without a second thought. Just ask Will. They're no one t' be pitied."

Her cheeks reddening in embarrassment, Wenna glanced away. "I didn't mean it like that," she murmured, though she knew it would be useless to lie. "I just…"

"You just wish that someday a handsome man whisks ya away on the back o' his horse and takes you on an adventure," Baylee sighed. She shook her head and let out a quiet laugh.

She pouted slightly and turned, facing her friend. "Well, don't you ever have dreams of handsome men and a life of adventure?" She leaned against the shelf, watching Baylee. "Don't you ever just wish you could give this boring inn life up? Serving customers all day gets so…so repetitive after three years! Why not go out into the wild world to find treasure an' huntin' orcs an' goblins and marrying a handsome bloke?"

Baylee glanced at her from the corner of her eye. Grabbing Wenna's half-full basket and starting to stack her soap, she let out a quiet sigh. "It's nothin' like the stories, Wenna. You can't be properly prepared for it –especially when they're runnin' at you, shoutin' 'Death! Death!' or 'Feast upon man flesh!'."

Wenna swallowed hard; there was no laughter in Baylee's tone –in fact, it was positively grim. She had never heard her speak in such a manner. "I'm sorry, "she quietly told her, looking away. "I forgot about…yeah…"

She shook her head and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, which was partially covered by a winding cuff shaped into a flower. Wenna knew it had been fashioned in such a way to hide a part of Baylee's ear that had been ripped off during the War. "The person I want t' marry someday is goin' to be sweet an' lovin' an' funny," she told her, changing the subject. "I don't care if he's handsome; it'd be nice, but he doesn't have t' be. So long as he loves me an' treats me well, I'll be content."

At that, Wenna managed a small giggle. "An' what if he were a dwarf?"

"A dwarf?" she laughed. "Fine by me. They've got handsome beards." She put the smaller of the two baskets inside the other before setting them on the floor. "C'mon. From the sound of it, we're goin' to be busy tonight." Leading Wenna out of the storage room and down the hallway, she was stopped just short of entering the common room as Wenna tugged her into the kitchen. "Wenna, what're you-"

She pointed at a table in the corner of the room where a group of men and women sat; all were dressed like rangers. "That's him!" she hissed, motioning towards the man in the middle. He was laughing at one of his companion's jokes.

"Oh…" Baylee murmured, her eyes widening.

For once, Wenna had not lied. The entire group was made up of handsome people –she was sure the fact that they were foreign helped with that- but their leader seemed especially so. Baylee couldn't tell if it was because of his golden eyes, his auburn hair, or his warm smile, but there was just something about that man that managed to make him more attractive than the rest.

"He is handsome…" she mumbled.

"Isn't he?" Wenna sighed. "Give him a crown an' he could be a king, here to take me away to his kingdom in the east…"

Baylee shook her head and looked down at the younger woman, seeing a dreamy look on her face. Shoving the thought from her mind, she brushed some hair from her face. "It's just because he's from Dorwinion," she firmly told her. "Give 'im paler skin like us and I'm sure we wouldn't look twice at him."

"Oh, I would. Maybe even thrice. Now if he'd just stand up so I can see his ar-"

"Wenna!"

The younger girl bolted upright as Demelza came up behind them. "Y-yes, Miss Demelza?" she asked, turning. Her cheeks were bright red as she looked at the blonde woman.

Demelza raised her brow, handing her an empty basket. "Galiene's almost out of rosemary, sage, an' oregano," she told her. "Off you go! No dawdling, either. She needs them for dinner!"

Wenna looked rather heartbroken as she was ushered out of the kitchen door. Baylee was unable to keep herself from giggling as she went to put on an apron. Sometimes, that girl was just a little too boy crazy.

"Good move, auntie," she told her aunt. "I take it she's been tryin' t' flirt since the lads got here?"

Galiene chuckled. "You know her. We don't know if any have flirted back, but I can tell you that she's too young for them. She's only twenty; that whole group must be in their early thirties at the least."

Demelza shrugged. "A few of the women seem to be in their twenties still."

"Strange seein' female rangers," Baylee commented. "I thought Lovisa was the only one this side o' the mountains."

Her aunt gave her a look. "Excuse me? There are plenty o' female fighters out there in the world –an' yes, on this side of the Misty Mountains. They're just not as common because, for some odd reason, the men don't want us fighting alongside them."

Baylee smiled innocently at her aunt. "An' you're one of the best warriors I know, auntie," she sweetly told her. Galiene snickered, shaking her head while Demelza rolled her eyes.

"Have you eaten yet?" the two women asked in unison.

She blinked, a little taken aback by the suddenness of the question. "Um…not since breakfast?"

"Then here." Galiene grabbed a plate and piled it high with food for Baylee before setting it on a platter filled with soup, roasted vegetables, and some bread. "Take this out to Master Nori and have yourself a spot o' lunch with him before you start servin' others. Poor bloke has been by himself the last two days…"

The platter was thrust into her hands before she could argue. Rolling her eyes, she blew a lock of hair out of her face and went out into the common room, Demelza following behind her with two platters of drinks for the group from Dorwinion. Some of them watched Baylee as she went and set the platter down at Nori's table, but she didn't seem to notice.

"Afternoon, Miss Baylee," Nori smiled, a pipe in his hand.

"Afternoon, lad," she replied, sitting down on the stool normally taken up by Bofur. She set his plates and bowls in front of him. "Hope you haven't felt too lonely while the others have been away." Pulling her own plate towards her, she found that Galiene had given her some roast chicken breast and mashed potatoes covered in thick, brown gravy.

He shrugged, tucking the pipe into a pouch on his belt. "Not terribly. It's been a nice, quiet break, truthfully," he told her. "Mostly because I get t' eat all of my food on my own."

She laughed. "That is true. Though, in their defense, I see you stealing their food just as often as they steal yours."

A sheepish grin came to his lips before he started to eat. "How's your sparrin' coming along?"

A quieter, more embarrassed laugh left her mouth. "Alright, I guess. Aunt Demelza has been pushin' me real hard lately, since we're just two weeks from headin' out."

"As she should," he said with a small nod. He slurped down a few spoonfuls of his soup. "You know, if you wanted, I don't do much while here and those sparring lessons take away two waitresses. I could give you a lesson or two if you an' your aunt wanted. You'd also be learnin' to defend yourself against a totally different fightin' style, since I don't use axes or swords."

She tilted her head, chewing on some of her chicken. "What do you use, then?" she asked when she swallowed the bite.

"Two knives, mostly. Sometimes I use a mace." He tore some bread from the loaf, dipping it into his soup. "Help yourself to the bread, by the way. I'm sure I won't be able t' eat all of it."

Nodding, she reached over for the bread and ripped off a small piece. "Thank-you," she chirped, "for the bread an' the lesson offer. I'll ask Aunt Demelza 'bout it in a little bit. She an' Galiene are kind o' forcing me to eat before I get 'round to serving."

He laughed. "That small plateful isn't much of a meal if they're forcing you to eat," he grinned. "If you were Erebor and being forced to eat, lass, you'd have an entire table of food before you. An' trust me –with how small you are for a human, you'd easily be mistaken for a skinny dwarf. There'd be so many folk tryin' to get you to eat, you'd be sick of food within the hour."

"Well, unlike dwarven women, I don't have myself a beard so it'd be impossible t' mistake me for a dwarf," she chuckled, mixing her gravy with her mashed potatoes. "And I don't think I'd be able to grow much of one, even if I tried."

Nori shrugged. "I'm sure there are a few women who could help you with that. There's bound to be some sort of concoction they've come up with t' help them grow fine, thick beards. Gerdi, Bombur's wife, uses this oil in her hair that made it grow three times as thick…" He wore a teasing grin as he glanced at her. "I could ask her what it is, if you'd like."

She giggled, her cheeks turning pink from mirth. "I'm not so sure I'd look good with facial hair. I'll think I'll just keep what hair I've already got an' call it good."

He used his fingers to pick up some of the roasted vegetables. "I don't know. You may look good with a pair of sideburns or a mustache." He tossed a sprout into his mouth, thinking about how Ori would have made a face if he had been there.

She snorted into her food before wiping her fingers on her apron. Reaching back, she undid her hair and grabbed two, long locks, holding them under her nose. "Like this?" she giggled, her cheeks still red.

"Aye, there ya go!" Nori laughed, lightly smacking his knee. "Just braid 'em together and use a bit of glue to hold 'em in place –no dwarf would be the wiser!"

Again, she snorted, letting her hair fall back onto her shoulders. "I still don't think it'd be the best look for me," she giggled, taking a bite of her potatoes. "Maybe sideburns would look better?"

He shrugged. "I don't know –plenty of male dwarrows would find you rather attractive. Some of them already do, even without the 'mustache' or sideburns," he chuckled. His brow rose as he watched her cheeks grow darker.

"Wh-what do you mean?" she stammered, brows furrowed in confusion. "I only know a few dwarves."

"Exactly." He grinned mischievously. "One o' the lads in our little group fancies you." He let out a small laugh. "I'd tell you…but I am not at liberty t' say who it is. It's his job, after all. Though, it'll be fun seein' you try to guess which one it is. Also, I swear by Durin's long beard that it isn't me."

She poked at her potatoes with her spoon. "Why would a dwarf fancy me, though?" she asked. "I mean, I'm just an ordinary human; there's nothin' special about me."

"I don't know, Baylee…he finds you pretty special." Taking a drink of his ale, he glanced up when the door opened. He slightly choked on the alcohol when he saw who walked in.

"Mister Dwalin!" Baylee chirped, thankful for the distraction. "Long time no see!"

Dwalin's brow rose and a bit of a smile came to his lips as he saw the girl. "Hello, Miss Baylee," he said, coming towards the table. "An' Nori! I was lookin' for yeh, lad. Saw Ori an' he said I may find yeh here."

Nori swallowed hard as the large dwarf heartily patted him on the back. "O-oh, is that so?" He said, coughing slightly from the ale he had inhaled. From the corner of his eye, he watched as Baylee bounced to her feet and hurried behind the bar. "What do you need?" He prayed to Aulë that it didn't involve a certain human's wife…

Sitting down, Dwalin grinned knowingly. "I think yeh know why, laddie."

"No, honestly, Dwalin, I don't." He hid behind his soup bowl, finishing its contents, despite suddenly feeling rather nauseous.

Dwalin laughed a deep, throaty laugh –it unexpectedly brought reassurance to the other dwarf. He knew that laugh was one of pure mirth. "I can't get a decent game o' checkers in any of the taverns back in Erebor," he grinned. "You're the only one who puts up a good enough fight! Ah, thank yeh, Miss Baylee." He took the mug from her as she returned to the table. "I see this place is still gettin' a good amount o' customers."

"Aye, it is," she smiled. Most of her blush had faded by now, though Nori noticed as she pulled her hair back, that a bit of pink still remained. "Just got a group o' Dorwinion folk in today." She nodded towards the corner. "Can I get ya anythin' t' eat?"

He grinned again. "Have yeh any roasted chickens?"

"Aye, we do. Shall I fetch ya one?"

Nodding, he glanced around the common room, glancing at what other people were eating. "An' bring some sides out, too. I'm not too picky, so just make 'em a surprise."

She put her mostly-empty plate onto her tray, also gathering up Nori's empty soup bowl. "Will do. Nori, would ya like some more soup?"

He shook his head. "I'm fine, thanks. But more ale would be nice." He handed her his mug, watching as she walked off. "So you're really just here for checkers?" he inquired.

Dwalin's brow rose. "Why else would I be here?" he chuckled. "Yeh didn't get yourself into trouble, did yeh?"

"No, of course not." He shoved a roasted carrot into his mouth. "I'm just here for a little holiday."

Crossing his arms, he leaned back in the chair. "Mhm…See, Ori told me that yeh were here doin' some business for Dori." Nori paused for the briefest of moments; it would have gone unseen by most, but Dwalin had a well-trained eye. "So, one o' yeh is lyin' to me and I doubt it was Ori. He's too sweet t' lie."

Nori's brow rose slightly; 'sweet' was not normally a word Dwalin used in reference to males. "I've finished up with the business," he said with a shrug. "So now it's a holiday."

"Mhm. I'll believe that when I shave me beard."

They both fell quiet as Baylee returned. She set Nori's mug of ale in front of him before setting her tray down. "Nori, auntie said that it'll be alright if you take over tonight's practice," she told him. "But she requests that you use the knives, not the mace." She set some plates of food in front of the taller dwarf.

Nori nodded in understanding. "Fair enough. Just let me know when you want t' practice an' I'll be ready."

"Practice?" Dwalin asked as Baylee started to walk off. She would have explained, but one of the female rangers was hailing her.

"Miss? Could we get some more ale?" she asked.

"Aye, you can," Baylee smiled. She walked over and set her tray down, taking the empty mugs as they were handed to her. "Was it ale for all o' you or…?"

"I had beer," three of them said while another two told her that they had had cider.

A wine goblet was set in the midst of her tray. "Wine, if you please, miss," said their leader. He gave Baylee a small smile and thankful nod as she lifted the tray.

"I'll be right back," she told them, smiling in return. As she crossed the room, she was positive that, had Wenna been there, she would have been the envy of the younger woman. Not that she cared much at the moment; she was still trying to guess which dwarf fancied her. Nori had roused her curiosity, though she knew full well that she was too shy to ask each dwarf himself. Not to mention, it would be rude…With a sigh, she figured that she would have a very slim chance of ever finding out who it was.

Before she really realized it, she was back at the rangers' table, setting various mugs in front of their owners. Grabbing the goblet, she set it beside the leader and noticed that none of them had any food set before them.

"Are you lot waitin' for food or have ya ordered yet?" she inquired.

"We haven't ordered yet," he replied, "though we'd like to now." As she nodded, he made a small gesture to his companions, who fell quiet so he could speak. "We'll have three plates of sausages, two of roasted vegetables, four chickens, three loaves of bread, some fruit if you've any, those three-" he pointed at two women and a man across the table from him, "-will have soup. Is there anything I'm forgetting?" He leaning over, glancing at each of his companions curiously.

One of the men with lighter hair than the rest leaned forward. "Have you any cakes?" he asked.

She nodded. "We've some seed cakes, some honey cakes, an' some beer cakes."

He looked a little confused. "Beer cakes? Never heard o' those."

"They're more on the savory side; they go pretty good with stews an' fish."

The man nodded in understanding. "Then I'll have two honey cakes."

Baylee nodded slightly. This was a large order to remember…but it wasn't the largest she had been given in her lifetime. "All this will take a bit o' time to get prepared, so I apologize in advance for any delays," she told the leader.

"It's wholly understandable, miss…?" His brow rose slightly and a small grin came to his lips.

"Baylee," she replied.

He held out his hand. "Rán," he told her as she moved to shake his hand, but instead, he raised her hand to his lips and placed a small kiss on the top of her knuckles. "And I thank you for your service."

Her cheeks turned bright red. "Heh, well, it's my job, milord," she chuckled, a bit of shyness coming to her tone. 'Best not tell Wenna about this,' she thought before hurrying off to tell Galiene the order and help prepare it. 'She'll have my head!'


	9. Chapter 9

Ori sighed as he lifted his spoon and turned it, letting the soup spill back into the bowl. His nose scrunched up as he saw a couple of wilted, green leaves floating around in the soup. He didn't like green food, even if it was in soup.

It was rabbit food. Not dwarf food.

A plate of his favorite sweet cakes appeared beside him, as well as a mug of ale. "Is something troubling you, Ori?" Dori set down his own bowl before sitting down across from his youngest brother.

"It's got green leaves in it."

He rolled his eyes and chuckled. "Pity's sake, Ori! It's just spinach. You like spinach."

"It's green. I don't like green," he replied, his tone firm.

"Well, then, leave them to float and I'll take them when you're done."

Instead, Ori began the tedious task of scooping out each leaf of spinach and dumping it into Dori's bowl. When he finished, he sighed quietly and started to eat. Dori watched him, a brow raised in concern. He had been home for four days; for the first three, he had been as happy as could be, telling Dori all about his days in Dale and all the new people he got to meet and the things he learned. But today…He just seemed depressed.

"What's wrong with you, Ori?" Dori asked after some minutes. He lifted his bowl, drinking some of the broth. "You were so…cheerful yesterday and now you're a glum plum. Did someone insult your mustache again? Because if they did, I'll give them a piece of my mind; it's coming in quite nicely, by the way."

Ori plopped his arm on the table, resting his chin in his palm. "No one insulted me, Dori." He took in a spoonful of broth and chicken. "I've just been thinking is all."

"About what?"

"About how you an' Nori got to go on all these adventures before I was born. And then here I come along and I only got one adventure."

He raised his brow. "What? You want to go on more adventures?" he asked. Ori nodded. "But…to where? You've not been out in the Wild for nearly five years and Mahal knows you're not ready to go anywhere on your own!" He scooped some chicken and spinach from his soup and ate it. Unlike Ori, he quite enjoyed green food.

"Lake Town."

"Lake Town?" he repeated with a laugh. "Well, if Nori wanted to go with you, I suppose that's fine…"

Ori shook his head. "No. Not with Ori. And not with you. I want to be able to go on my own."

Dori dropped his spoon as he stared at him. "Ori, that's preposterous! When have you ever been left alone in the outside? Not once! Even in Dale you have Bifur and Bofur to watch over you."

"And Nori now as well," he said, rolling his eyes slightly. He sat up and pushed his bowl away. "Dori, I'm not a dwarrowling anymore! Yes, I'm a good deal younger than you and Nori –but blame mum for that, not me." He sighed, turning his gaze away from his brother and staring instead into the hearth, watching the flames lick at the stone walls.

"I'm tired of bein' the soft one. Even in Thorin's Company, I was the soft one. Everyone babying me and making sure I wouldn't get hurt…I was only three years younger than Kili and everyone treated him an' Fili like noble warriors! Even the rotten goblins made fun of me for being the youngest." He shook his head. "I just want to go out and know what it's like to see the world, even if it's not that far from the doorstep, Dori."

Dori sighed, resting his elbow on the table as he rubbed his forehead. "Ori, it's not safe out there."

"Oh, don't give me that bunch of bollocks!" he suddenly cried. "There's been peace in the north for five years thanks to us, Dori! Because of us, the humans, the elves, the eagles, and Beorn –the north is safe!"

Dori leaned back, taken aback by his brother's sudden outburst. He always expected such an attitude from Nori, but never gentle Ori. His mouth moved, but he couldn't bring himself to form any words that would have been coherent.

Sighing, Ori sat down and closed his eyes. Shaking his head, he went back to eating his soup. "There's a small group of humans leaving in a week an' a half for Lake Town," he quietly told his brother. "I'm going t' go with them. Nori won't be with them, but Baylee, the innkeeper's daughter, will."

"There have reports of raiders," Dori murmured.

"We'll have soldiers with us."

He nodded, lifting his bowl and draining it of the broth before setting it back down. "I'm sorry."

Ori glanced up. "What?"

"I'm sorry." He sighed. "I know I'm always babying you, Ori, but…you weren't even five when mum passed on, leavin' me to raise you and Nori." Using his spoon, he poked around at his chicken and spinach. "And with your father not being much of a father…always off gambling or getting drunk. Undwarrow-like behavior…" He shook his head and looked at Ori with an apologetic smile. "I guess I just got too caught up raising you to see how much you've grown up. With Nori it's easier, since he's so much older than you and can handle himself so well."

Ori's cheeks turned bright red as he looked down into his bowl; he felt guilty for his outburst. He knew full well that Dori only had the best of intentions for him and Nori, but sometimes it was just too much to handle. "I'm sorry I yelled at you," he mumbled, ashamed. "I know you're just looking out for us…and you've done a much better job than our father ever could." He glanced up at him, smiling sheepishly. "I suppose you got that from your father."

He nodded slowly, a quiet laugh leaving his mouth. "Aye, I suppose so. He always had been a bit of a Worry William, hadn't he?"

"But he taught you well, or else I may have ended up like Nori."

"Nori's a good dwarrow…his heart is in the right place. He just…gets sidetracked sometimes." He ate some of the chicken. "I'm glad he hasn't been in jail lately. It's a nice change, seeing him try to help with the family business. He's quite a good appraiser, I'll give him that."

Ori quietly laughed. "I wonder if it has anythin' to do with his thieving?"

"Oh, hush you," Dori chortled. "And finish your soup before it goes cold!"

~*~*~

Meanwhile, in a mansion not terribly far away, Bifur had his arms full of dwarrowlings as he sat on the floor, a book in his hands. He was reading the dwarrowlings a nap-time story, even though most of them were old enough to not need naps. The little ones were fidgeting slightly, some of them not wanting to sleep, but none of them wanted to miss out on the story –especially if Cousin Bifur was the one reading.

"And so, the Littlest Dwarrow crept out of his cave. But oh! All his friends were gone, though their belongings remained," he read. "'Now, why would they have gone without their things'? thought the Littlest Dwarrow. He knew that, like all good dwarrows, his friends took good care of their belongings and wouldn't leave them tossed on a floor without a care. The Littlest Dwarrow poked his head out into the big, tall hall and, peering through the darkness, looked for any sign of his friends.

"While he could not see his friends, he did see something peculiar: Off in the distance, there was a light. Now, this far down in the mountain, there was no light from the Sun –and, even if her rays could penetrate the thick stone, she was asleep, for it was nighttime above ground. The Littlest Dwarrow knew that this light had one of two sources: Fire or-"

"Light crystals!" Buruz murmured sleepily. He yawned and nuzzled into Bifur's beard.

"That's right," Bifur chuckled, turning the page.

"Light crystals are pretty," Grid mumbled. She was already mostly asleep. On her lap, Sanna was curled up, clutching her favorite ragdoll. Boroz, too, was sleeping soundly as he sat on Bifur's lap.

A few pages later, Bofur poked his head into the room, a gentle smile coming to his features as he saw Bifur closing the book, all four children fast asleep. Ah, but now his poor cousin had a dilemma ahead of him: How to put the four children in their beds without accidentally dropping one? For that, he came to the rescue.

"You sure tuckered them out," Bofur whispered, lifting Boroz and Buruz from Bifur's lap.

"They're going to hate us for being gone when they wake up." He stood, cradling Sanna and Grid in his arms.

A sad smile came to Bofur's lips. "Aye, but only for a little while. When we come back for another visit, they'll be as happy as bees around honey." Setting the two boys in their bed, he tugged the blanket up to their shoulders. "We're not far away, after all." He leaned down and kissed their foreheads before straightening up. "Here, I'll take Sanna." As he took the littlest one from Bifur, she stirred.

"Uncle Bof?" she mumbled, looking up at him with bleary eyes.

"Aye, my lil' gemstone?" He held her against his shoulder, carrying her out of the room.

She buried her face into his hair and sighed heavily with sleep. "Ruby need new dwess…"

It was hard for him to restrain his laughter; behind him, Bifur was quietly chortling. "I'll see what I can do, alright?" he murmured. Glancing over his shoulder, he saw his cousin shaking his head slightly.

Both entered the girls' room and set them down, being careful to not wake them again. Giving them each a kiss on the forehead, they left them be, Bifur still laughing softly.

"You'd think you're her doll's personal tailor or something," he chuckled, patting Bofur on the back.

"Well, I did make the doll for her. It would make sense," he grinned. "Glad t' know I'm still appreciated around here."

The two of them walked down the hall and down a flight of stairs, showing up in the kitchen. Gerdi was slicing some carrots, little Edda (as she and Bombur had decided three hours after her birth) swaddled up against her chest in a wrap. Bombur was near the fire, stirring some meat in the bottom of a large cooking pot. Both looked up as the two males entered the room.

"Well, how did it go?" Gerdi asked, her voice quiet. Edda was fast asleep.

"They're all tucked in and napping quietly," Bifur smiled.

Bombur's brows rose in surprise. "All of them? Even Boroz and Sanna?"

"They were the first t' fall asleep," Bofur told him. "Don't know how he managed it, all four o' them snuggled up on his lap…But it'll soon be five, I'm sure." He moved to get himself a small cup of ale.

Gerdi smiled. "When this little one is old enough, I'm sure they'll manage to make room."

Bifur moved to steal a slice of carrot, grinning as he narrowly avoided getting his hand smacked by the flat of the blade. "She'll fit perfectly on Buruz's lap, I'm sure." He glanced over his shoulder as Bombur patted him on the back.

"Are you sure you want to stay in Dale?" he teased, though there was a small look of sadness on his features. "I mean, we could always use a great story reader around here."

He nodded. "I have to spoil more than just my family, you know." A concerned look came to his face as Edda quietly whimpered, squirming against her mother's breast as she woke up.

Gerdi rubbed her back, gently shushing her in an attempt to get her to go back to sleep. The attempt failed, however, and Edda started to get a bit louder. Sliding her out of the linen wrap, she started to rock the infant only to pass her off to Bombur.

"Is she hungry?" Bifur asked.

"She only ate 'bout ten minutes ago," Bofur answered. "I was doin' the cuttin' for Gerdi while she was off feeding Edda," he explained when Bifur cocked his brow. He plucked up a cloth and tossed it to his brother as, when he patted Edda's back, she left a burp all over his shoulder.

Bifur glanced away; he could handle the sight of torn bodies, severed limbs, and entrails spilled across the ground, but the slightest peek at someone or something's puke made him ill. "Ah, so that's what it was," he chuckled. "Well, she should be better now!"

Seeing that Bombur was having some difficulty getting the puke off of his shoulder, Bofur walked over and took the cloth from him. As he started to wipe the mess up, he could see that Edda was all smiles while she watched him. Her eyes tried to focus on him, but he moved too fast for her three-day-old vision. Once he got Bombur's shoulder puke-free, he tossed the cloth into a bucket and took the infant from her father, cradling her in his arms as he started to sing:

_"The world was young, the mountains green_

_No stain yet on the Moon was seen,_

_No words were laid on stream or stone,_

_When Durin woke and walked alone._

_He named the nameless hills and dells;_

_He drank from yet untasted wells;_

_He stooped and looked in Mirrormere,_

_And saw a crown of stars appear,_

_As gems upon a silver thread,_

_Above the shadow of his head."_

Bombur and Gerdi slowed their stew prep, wanting to listen as Bofur sang. His voice had always been fair; a trait he had gotten from their mother. Bombur had many fond (albeit short) memories of being sung to sleep by his older brother when he was naught but a dwarrowling. As he glanced at his daughter, he smiled; Bofur had lured little one back into slumber's grasp with just barely the one verse.

Bofur very carefully handed Edda back to her mother, who once more swaddled her. "I think she likes that one," he joked quietly.

"I think she just likes your voice," Gerdi smiled. "You two are going t' be sorely missed, I hope you know."

Bifur smiled. "Aye, we know. We'll miss you lot, too, but it's not as if we won't be very far away." He glanced at his cousin. "Just an hour or two, weather dependin'."

"And we'll be back for a couple o' days every month," Bofur added, leaning back slightly to stretch his back. He felt something shift before popping and he let out a little 'ah!' of relief. "So you'll see us plenty often."

"But not often enough if this little one is a restless sleeper," Bombur chuckled, his stomach jiggling slightly.

"Gerdi's got herself a fair enough voice," Bifur reassured him. "I'm sure Edda will learn to appreciate all sorts o' music, whether it's good or-" he glanced at Bombur, who did not have a good singing voice at all, "bad. What'll matter is that someone's singin' to her." He adjusted his belt slightly and narrowed his eyes, looking out through one of the mansion's few windows that gazed outside. "Ah…It's high time that we get going, Bofur."

He nodded in understanding. "Aye, it is." He looked at Bombur and Gerdi, smiling warmly. "You'll see us soon enough, I promise."

~*~*~*~*~*~

"Move yeh feet more. Aye, like that. Use the shield t' redirect his blows!"

Dwalin stood against the wall of the inn, his arms crossed as he stood beside Will. Both were watching as Nori and Baylee sparred. Being the battle-hardened warrior, however, Dwalin had been left in charge of instructing the woman while her aunt tended to customers. As he saw Baylee raise her shield arm, smacking one of Nori's arms away from her when he tried to 'stab' her, his brow rose as she 'sliced' across Nori's stomach.

"Kill for Baylee," he called out.

Will walked over to his sister, who leaned over and rested her hands on her knees. She quietly panted and looked up at him, sweat pouring down her grinning face. Holding out a mug of water, he smiled reassuringly. "Good job. That's two kills for you an' three for Nori. Just one more match." He frowned slightly, seeing a bruise beginning to form under her left eye from an accidental headshot Nori had landed during their first match. Such things happen, though. She hadn't minded much; in fact, she ended up laughing.

"Or two, if'n I win," she told him, taking the mug. "Don't think I will though." Standing upright, she drank some of the water before splashing the rest over the top of her head. She shivered as the cool water ran down the back of her head and down her neck, but it was better than overheating.

His brow rose. "Have some faith in yourself," he scolded, "or else you'll never win."

"I do have faith in myself," she told him, shoving her wet bangs out of her face, "it's just that this sword is drivin' me insane. Look how bad it's gotten the last three days!" Grabbing the weapon from where she had dropped it, she offered it, hilt-first, to her brother. "I don't think I should use it anymore."

He frowned; the blade was dented in many places and was even bent near the tip. Shaking his head, he sighed. "Looks like you're stuck with axes then," he told her. "This is beyond useless now…"

Dwalin walked over. "What's goin' on?" he asked.

"Baylee's going to stick to axes from now on," Will explained. "The sword's too crap to go another round."

Taking just one look at it, Dwalin gave the weapon a look of disgust. "Aye…it doesn't look like it'd even be good for scrap metal, laddie." He turned to Baylee, not needing to look up –she was only two inches taller than him. "Lass, have yeh ever given thought t' usin' a spear or staff?"

She shook her head. "No; we've never had spears around t' practice with. They were all owned by the city guard."

"Lad, do yeh think yeh'd be able t' find one?" he asked Will. "Or at least a nice, sturdy stick?"

"I don't know…let me check the stables for somethin'," he told the dwarf before heading into the building. Stepping into the dimmer light, he squinted, his eyes being slow to adjust to the change, and looked around for Peter or Gawen. At the back of the room, he could see a man about as tall as himself, but with muscles like his father and hair as red as fire. "Oi! Peter!" he called.

The man turned, showing a youthful face. "Whatcha need, Will?" he asked, leaning on a pitchfork.

"I need a staff or somethin' close to a spear. Have you anything o' the sort in here?"

His brow rose. "Let me guess…Baylee's sparring?" Will nodded. "Not sure if I've got anything like that but…" Walking over to a door, he disappeared into a small room for a few minutes. When he returned, he was carrying a broken shovel. "Your pa was supposed t' fix this one," he told him, "but it'll go to better use this way." Resting it on the floor at an angle, he slammed his foot down where the metal was hammered into the shaft. The wood cracked slightly, but did not splinter.

"Let me try," Will murmured. He stomped down, and still the wood did not fracture. Both men cocked their brows and looked at each other, surprised.

Peter laughed. "I think this'll be a good staff for her if it's not wantin' t' break under our weights." It took two more good stomps on the wood before it finally broke. "There we go!" picking up the wooden pole, he handed it to Will.

"Thanks, Peter," Will grinned. "Good job with washin' Chestnut the other day, by the way. Haven't seen his coat so shiny in months."

He shrugged humbly. "It's my job."

Shaking his head, Will chuckled. "Still. Keep up the good work." With the pole in hand, he left the stables. Baylee looked up in time to catch the pole as he tossed it to her, though she winced, having dropped her shield on her foot in the process.

"OW!" She hopping around on one foot, her hand clinging onto the other. "Could'a given me some warnin', ya big arsemunch!"

"Sorry, 'Lee!" Will winced, hearing the two dwarves snicker –not at her pain, but at her swearing. "I thought ya still had it—OW!" He had not been able to avoid getting thwacked upside the head as she swung the pole at him.

"Excellent aim!" Nori laughed. He glanced at Dwalin. "She may be a natural with that thing."

He cocked his brow, looking down at his friend. "We'll see. I'll go against her this round."

Nori frowned. "What? But you'll kick her arse!"

He plucked the two knives from Nori's hands, making sure the padding was still securely wrapped around the strange blades. "I know. But it's the only way she'll learn." He patted Nori on the back and walked over to Baylee and Will, the former attempting to thwack her brother again. "Baylee, time for yeh next match."

She halted in mid-swing, looking at him in surprise. "Alright," she said with a small nod. "Why isn't Nori over here?" From the corner of her eye, she saw Will hurrying to go stand beside Nori.

"I'm givin' him a break," he chuckled. "Don't worry, I won't go too easy on yeh." He laughed, though she only let out a nervous chuckle. "Now remember what I told yeh –staffs 'n spears can be used for offense an' defense at the same time. If yeh try t' hit me, though, use the blunt end, aye? I don't need any splinters stickin' out o' my skull."

"Fine by me," she agreed. The two of them moved to the center of the inn yard, taking their positions.

"Start," Will called out, his brows furrowed. He watched as Dwalin raised one of the knives, keep the other more waist-level while Baylee spaced her grip out on the pole so she held it less like a sword. For a moment, the two opponents circled round each other before the dwarf lunged at Baylee. She just barely had time to block one of his arms; the other made to slash at her stomach, but she hopped back (and sucked in her stomach, but no one could see that).

As he started to pull away, she shoved his arm off the stick and tried to thwack his shoulder, but the second knife blocked her blow. She shifted herself and brought the other end of the staff around, managing to smack his knee. Dwalin let out a grunt and swung his arm in for a stab, but she stepped back and knocked his hand away. He tried to slash at her with the other hand, though he aimed at her leg. She jumped out of the way of the blow and managed to smack Dwalin on the back.

Nori chuckled, glancing up at Will. "I think she's a natural with that," he grinned.

"I don't doubt it. Have you seen her with a broom? She's deadly with those things, especially if ya accidentally walk through her dirt pile…" Will murmured. He cringed as Dwalin managed to 'stab' Baylee's leg. "That's goin' to bruise for sure."

"If it's Dwalin, it's a miracle if it doesn't bruise."

They watched as Dwalin aimed a blow at her head; Nori was positive it was going to hit. At the last second, Baylee dove down and rolled onto her knees behind him. With quite a bit of force behind the blow, she slammed the stick into the back of Dwalin's knees, sweeping his legs out from under him. He cursed as he fell onto his back and felt the dull end of the pole lightly pressed against his neck.

"Aha! Baylee's killed Dwalin!"

Everyone looked up, more than a little surprised to see Bifur, Bofur, and Ori stopped at the entrance of the inn yard. Their pony did not look entirely amused; their cart was full to the brim with crates of varying sizes.

"The lads are back!" Baylee chirped, removing her 'weapon' from Dwalin's neck. She helped him to his feet before resting the pole against a wall. Nori snickered, watching as she went over and gave each of the dwarves a big hug. Will raised his brow, giving him a curious look.

"What?" he asked.

Nori shook his head. "She doesn't even care that she's won," he skillfully lied. In truth, he had noticed that Bofur's cheeks had gained a bit of color.

"It's Baylee," Will laughed. "She prefers good food, song, and cheer over fightin'."

"And balancing trays atop her head. You can't forget that, lad."

"That comes with good food," he grinned. He moved over to the cart, patting the disgruntled pony on the nose. "How was the trip?"

"Ughelekh," Bifur replied, smiling. "Bofur sakh Bomburhi nuthûth mahfurukh. Ubarufur umala. Ikhul…ni khi ashuru."

Dwalin grinned. "Ah, so Gerdi did give birth?" He patted Bifur and Bofur on the back. "An' another lil' girl for her an' Bombur. If yeh two ever have dwarrowlings, yeh may end up with all daughters if Bombur's family is any indication! Not that that's a bad thing –we could use more females."

Baylee cocked her head curiously. "Are there not many female dwarves?"

"For every hundred males," Ori told her, "less than thirty would be female. So, four three out o' Bombur's eight children to be female is a bit o' a celebrated oddity."

"Celebrated oddity…" Nori quietly repeated. "I like that one, Ori." He ruffled his brother's hair, causing him to blush slightly. "We were just finishing up Baylee's sparring for the day, though she's got one match left now that she beat Dwalin."

Baylee groaned, leaning against the cart. "I forgot about that…"

Dwalin heartily patted her on the back, the force making her stumble forward slightly. "Ah, but yeh've tied us now, lass! Yeh need t' break the tie."

"Ooh, she's got three wins does she?" Bofur grinned. "She was hardly gettin' two wins when we left!"

"Thurukhdhi ghelekhur!" Bifur beamed.

Dwalin nodded in agreement. "Nori 'n I have taken over her sparring so that they're not terribly understaffed inside," he explained. "An' she seems more keen t' attack with a staff rather than a sword or axe I found out." He rubbed his leg slightly.

"I didn't mean t' hit ya that hard," Baylee apologized, rubbing the back of her neck.

"No, it's a good thing, lass!" he grinned. "Just ask Ori here." He set his hand on Ori's shoulder, which caused his cheeks to go darker. "When I was trainin' him, he was afraid t' hit me too hard, but he quickly learned that sometimes, leavin' a bruise is better 'n gettin' a wallop upside the head."

Ori shyly smiled, rubbing his hands together. "Dori was never too pleased with you after that. He almost wouldn't let you keep training me."

"Well, let us pass by with our things first," Bofur told them, "so we came get ol' Daisy here all nice and nestled away in a stall. She's right mad at us for makin' her come all this way."

It took about ten minutes for the dwarves to get their cart and pony huddled away inside the stables. By the time Bofur and Bifur came back out, Baylee and Dwalin were in the middle of their final match. The human was barely getting any chances to attack thanks to Dwalin's onslaught of slashes and stabs. As she backed up, she tripped and fell onto her back, the staff flying out of her hand. Ori and Bofur cringed as they watched.

She rolled out of the way as Dwalin tried to 'stab' her, but it was in the opposite direction of her weapon. Mentally cursing, she hopped backwards and wriggled herself out of the way as Dwalin continued to attack her. She glanced around in an attempt to find her weapon, but it was too far away by this point.

Suddenly, Dwalin paused, for a small rock had hit him upside the head. He stopped, looking down at the pebble quizzically before looking up. He gave Ori a look that was half scolding, half impressed, for the younger dwarf wore a sheepish grin and seemed to be hiding something behind his back. His brow rose, knowing full well that Ori had used his slingshot.

Baylee used the momentary distraction to dart around Dwalin and retrieve her weapon. As he spun around to face her, she smacked his hand, sending one of the knives flying out of his grasp. Bifur cursed and ducked out of the way as it came straight at him.

"Sorry Bifur!" Baylee squeaked.

"Ghelekhuh!" he called.

Bofur, Ori, Nori, and Will all cringed as Baylee aimed a blow at Dwalin's head; she never hit her target because the dwarf ducked under the blow and jabbed his elbow into her stomach. She fell onto one knee and tried to bring the pole closer to her so she could block any incoming blows, but it was too late. Dwalin had his knife hovering just above her neck.

"Kill for me, lass," he said with a raised brow and slight smirk. Stepping back, he offered her a hand up. "Three kills for yeh, though. Not bad, especially for havin' a new weapon thrown at yeh like this."

She smiled tiredly. "I kind o' like it," she admitted. "It's lighter 'n the rest and I block better with it."

"And you're more aggressive with it, too," Will told her.

Bofur cocked his head, frowning as he, Bifur, and Ori walked over. He could see that Baylee's trousers were torn on the left knee and he saw that blood was already soaking into the brown fabric. "You're hurt," he said, pointing at her injury. He gave Dwalin a scolding look, which earned a quiet chuckle from Nori.

Baylee glanced down. "So I am!" she murmured, more surprised than anything."Oh well. I'll get it cleaned up an' have it bandaged before I get t' serving." She smiled reassuringly at the dwarf. "Thanks for pointin' it out; I don't think I would have noticed it."

Will rolled his eyes as he watched his sister curiously poke her wound only to wince. "Oh, for Estë's sake, Baylee! Why do you always poke your cuts or bruises?"

She glanced up at him. "T' see how bad they'll end up hurtin'," she said, her tone matter-of-fact. "If I can't touch it, then I know it's bad an' it'll be a bother. If I can touch it, then I know it won't be a bother."

"Yulzdhi náb," Bifur said with a small nod. "Durjn balilruk…"

"Aye, it is an odd point, but she does have one," Bofur agreed.

She smiled at the dwarves. "Why don't you lads head on in? I'll see ya soon enough; just need t' clean up and throw my apron on. Will, will ya get 'em settled with some drinks an' bread?"

He nodded. "Sure thing."

As Will and the dwarves went in to the kitchen, Baylee sat down on the edge of the well and tugged her trouser leg from her boot. Being careful to not get any water back into the well, she poured a bit of water over her knee and quietly hissed as the wound stung.

'Not the worst I've gotten,' she thought, watching as the blood started to flow anew. 'Doesn't hurt nearly as much as getting my ear ripped…'

Hearing the sound of hooves, she looked up in time to see Rán and a few of his companions riding into the inn yard; they had spent the day exploring the city and its surrounding lands. Turning back to her injury, she squinted slightly as she saw a pebble stuck into her flesh. As snippets of their conversation drifted towards her, she did her best to not eavesdrop –not that she could understand them anyway; the rangers spoke in a strange tongue. Will had told her that he didn't recognize it, so she supposed that it was a language invented for when they were out in the wilds. She knew that the rangers of Lake Town had done the same thing, though their language mostly mimicked the sounds and calls of animals.

When her knee was cleaned, she went into the kitchen, where she found Galiene and Wenna bustling about, getting the evening's dishes ready.

"Ah, Baylee! There you are-" Galiene started, but the younger woman held up her hands.

Baylee smiled apologetically. "Give me just a tick, Galiene; I've got t' bandage my knee," she explained before hurrying out of the kitchen. 'Best change my clothes while I'm back here, too,' she thought, entering the private quarters. Going down the hall to her room, she threw open her door before letting it close and went over to her trunk. Opening, she found that she only had skirts left.

"Well this will be different," she murmured, pulling a blue skirt and some black hose out. She also brought out a small roll of clean bandages. Kicking off her boots and dropping her trousers, she wrapped her knee up nice and tight –but not too tight. 'Uncle should approve of this at the least,' she thought, tugging on the hose. 'I'll have to do some laundry tonight, though…I need my trousers cleaned for the trip.'

Shaking her head, she made quick work of pulling her boots back on and hurried out of her room. Over the last couple of weeks, she had wondered how she managed to still have energy after her sparring practice. As she rounded the corner heading into the common room, she let out a surprised curse and tumbled backwards as she ran into someone.

"Sorry!" she and the other person cried out in unison. Judging by where their voice was, they too had fallen.

Pushing her bangs from her face, her cheeks turned a little red as she saw that she had smacked into Rán. "I'm sorry, I really should have-" she began, but he cut her off.

"No, it's entirely my fault, Miss Baylee." He hopped to his feet, auburn curls dancing around his shoulders, and offered her his hand up. "I should have paid attention to my surroundings instead of hurrying in such a fashion." He offered her an apologetic smile as he easily pulled her onto her feet, though it faltered when he saw the bruise lining her cheek bone. "I certainly hope I did not cause that bruise…"

She laughed. "No, Nori did that." A horrified look came to his features. "Sparrin' practice," she quickly told him, her cheeks flushing. "I ducked when I should have jumped back an' got a fist t' the face. It'll be fine."

His brow rose and he seemed somewhat amused. "Not many people can say such things after receiving a hit like that from a dwarf," he told her. As he spoke, she noticed something about his lips that she hadn't noticed before: They were scarred. She couldn't tell what sort of injury had been dealt to him, but it almost looked as if his lips had been sewn shut at one point in his life…

"I've had worse," she said with a shrug. Forcing herself to glance away, she saw that he had dropped a spare set of clothing on the floor when they ran into one another. "Oh, Yavanna's sake, where are my manners?" She hurriedly knelt down and gathered up his clothing before handing it over to him. "Sorry again."

He shrugged and quietly laughed. "It's no trouble, Miss Baylee," he said. "Though, may I request some warm bread and cheese for my companions whilst I bathe? And perhaps a couple pots of tea?"

She nodded. "Aye, I'll have them at the table quite soon, milord," she told him. With a shy smile, she stepped around him and headed into the kitchen.

Galiene glanced up from a soup pot. "What was that thud we heard?" she asked, sprinkling in some chopped parsley.

"Ah, one o' the rangers an' I ran into each other and took a tumble," she explained, grabbing her apron and tying it around her waist. "We're fine, though."

Wenna perked and glanced up from cutting some carrots. "Ooh, which ranger?" she asked, a grin on her face. "Was it one o' the handsome ones?"

Baylee's brow cocked as she moved to set two loaves of bread by the hearth to warm up. "You think they're all handsome, Wenna. But t' answer you, it was Rán."

"You ran into him?" she gasped. "Lucky!"

Galiene rolled her eyes. "Girl, you've an odd opinion on what's lucky an' what's not." She turned to Baylee. "You, on the other hand, missy…I need to talk t' you about tomorrow night."

She frowned. "What's tomorrow night?"

"King Bard is going to hold a meeting here-" They both ignored the wistful sigh of Wenna, "-about that journey down to Lake Town you're goin' t' be a part of. You absolutely cannot spar tomorrow night."

"But papa says if I don't-"

"I've talked to your papa about this," she told her. "Tomorrow afternoon, I'm goin' to need all of you lasses helping me with the cooking –An' yes, Wenna, this means you'll be stuck in here and not out in the common room!" She dipped a spoon into the soup and tasted it. "The lads will be workin' the lunch shift in there so we can get only the best foods cooked." She added a pinch of salt into the broth and stirred it again. "I won't be having this inn serving our king average food. He needs to be given the best."

Wenna frowned, putting her slices of carrot into a bowl with some chopped celery. "We'll be exhausted after all the cookin' you'll have us be doin'."

"That's why you get the mornin' off," she told her, "well, partially. You get here bright and early so I can have you and Baylee do a touch of shopping for me. No complaints! You'll be getting extra pay for this."

Baylee poured some hot water into two large teapots and tossed in some tea leaves. Poking her head out of the door, she counted six rangers at the table, so she put seven cups around the pots before adding the cheeses onto a second tray. She sliced the bread into nice, thick pieces before setting it on a plate and adding that alongside the cheese. Carrying them out of the kitchen, she was greeted by 'thank you's and 'ahh! Food!' from the rangers.

"It'll be just a tad bit longer before any real food's ready," she told them, setting a teacup in front of each of them. "But I can say that the soup is lookin' might tasty an' that there will be some roast beef."

"What sort of soup, miss?" the second in command of the group, a female, asked.

"Fish soup," she replied, "with tomatoes an' garlic an' a bunch o' other yummy things in it." She put a plate of bread and cheese at each end of the table.

The woman nodded, a grin coming across her lips. Baylee's brow rose slightly; her lips had the same, strange scarring as Rán's. "That sounds like it'll be delicious. I may have that later…"

Baylee chuckled. "Well, it's quite popular," she told her, "so I'll try t' get ya a bowl before it's gone." Smiling at the group, she gathered up her two trays and went to go check on the dwarves. "An' how're you lads doin'?"

"Quite good," Bofur answered for the group. He was holding a pipe in his hand and smoke furled from his mouth and nostrils as he spoke. "Jus' borin' the lads with tales o' my newest lil' niece an' how she's a penchant for burpin' all over her daddy's shoulder."

She laughed. "Ah, she's not the only one who likes t' do that. Until he was 'bout ten years old, it seemed Will would only ever throw up on papa's lap. He'd be sicker 'n a dog but not throw up until papa came near him. No one else…Not even me. Just papa."

"So, then, I suppose you were the one throwing up on your mother?" Nori asked, his brow rising as he grinned.

She shook her head. "Nope. I got our old dog once, though." Leaning over Dwalin, she peeked into his mug, finding it almost empty. "Looks like you need a refill there, Dwalin."

Raising it to his lips, he drained the last of it and held out to her, grinning. "Aye, tha' I do, lass," he grinned. "About how long 'til the food's done? Do yeh know?"

"About an hour," she told him, gathering up the other mugs. "Do you lads want anythin' to whet your stomachs until then?"

"Some biscuits for sure," Dwalin told her.

Ori thought for a moment. "Are there any chips?" She nodded. "Then some chips would be nice.

Bifur looked up, pulling himself out of the trance the fire had put him into. "Elukâz danukkhalâb," he told her.

"Somethin' vegetables," she said with a small grin. "I know 'danukkhalâb' is vegetables by now."

Bifur, Bofur, and Ori grinned. "Ah, she's learnin', she is!" Bofur chirped.

Nori raised his brow, shaking his head with a quiet chuckle. "If we don't watch out, she may be fluent soon." He wore a small grin that was quickly hidden behind his tankard.

Ori smiled up at her. "He'd like some raw vegetables," he translated.

Her cheeks flushed slightly from the bit of praise, she nodded. "Alright. I'll have ya drinks ready first," she told them before heading off.

Dwalin rested his elbows on the table. "A human shouldn't be learning our language," he quietly told the others. "It was devised for our tongues alone."

Bifur rolled his eyes slightly. "Kai Westron gagin abhyûr, líz lagab ühybîrdi. Nêdi abhyûr…ku'anmad?" he retorted.

Ori nodded in agreement. "It's not her fault if she picks up the language. Neither she nor Bifur can help it." He shrank down in his seat slightly as Dwalin raised his brow at him; it was not a scolding look, though the large dwarf still intimidated him.

"It's not like there aren't other folk who don't know Khuzdul," Nori said. They fell quiet for a moment as Baylee returned, setting their mugs before them. After they thanked her and she left, he leaned back in his seat. "Remember Lord Elrond? He's an elf and he knows our speech."

Dwalin took a long, slow drink from his beer. "It just feels odd, knowin' that someone who wasn't made by Mahal is speakin' the language he devised for us."

"Jus' remember," said Bofur, "tha' when we speak in Westron, we speak a language originally crafted by Eru." He glanced up as something moved in the corner of his eye; it was Rán returning from his bath. His brow rose; instead of trousers, the man was wearing a knee-length black skirt with a black shirt and wine-red tunic. "Huh. It's not summer yet," he murmured aloud.

"Hm?" Ori glanced at him. "Of course it's not summer; it's only the middle o' the Moon of Valacirca."

"I know, but the lad," Bofur did his best to subtly point at Rán, "is wearin' his summer garb."

Ori and Bifur leaned back in their seats, stealing peeks at the ranger. "Mukhuhel zurkuri niked sûlaniskah durjâghak?"

"Or he just doesn't have any spare trousers," Dwalin murmured. "Cannae tell with Dorwinion folk. I've heard that their men like t' wear skirts year 'round because it's warmer in their lands." He shrugged and took another long drink from his ale mug.

Nori snickered. "Maybe he just likes to feel the breeze 'round his privates." At that, the other four joined in with the quiet laughter.

Baylee returned for a second time with their appetizers. "Alright, here ya go, lads," she smiled, setting the plates down. "Anythin' else before I tend t' others?"

"How's your eye?" Nori asked. He felt bad for leaving such a dark bruise, but such things happened when sparring.

"It's fine. Haven't really noticed it, t' be honest," she reassured him, setting Bifur's plate of vegetables in front of him. "Then again, I've been too busy to notice." She glanced over her shoulder as Warren called out to her. "Ah, got t' go, lads. I'll be back when it's dinner time!" With a parting smile, she hurried across the room, not noticing that both Rán and Bofur were watching her. "Yes, papa?" she asked as she approached the large man.

He was cleaning out a tankard. "D'ya know where we put our best pewter mugs at?"

She thought for a moment. "I think they're in the very back o' the storeroom. Would ya like me t' go check?"

He shook his head. "No, no. I'll check in a bit. If they're back there, I'll need t' polish them; you're more needed up here. I have a feelin' we may be gettin' a crowd joinin' us for dinner the next few nights."

"Well, Galiene was sayin' that we'll be gettin' a crowd tomorrow for sure. What's this about Bard comin' an' holding a meeting here?" she asked, resting her elbows on the bar.

"Ah, good, she did tell you," he grinned; it was a nervous grin. She had seen such a look only twice in her life –once when the Master of Lake Town had subtly threatened hire taxes if he didn't get an expensive meal for cheap and the other when he had promised her and her mother before the War than he'd and Will would return to them alive. "Aye, he'll be stoppin' in tomorrow. It's nothin' terribly large t' worry about-"

"An' yet, here ya are, pullin' out our best mugs an' havin' Galiene cook her finest dishes…" she murmured sarcastically.

He gave her a look. "As I was sayin', it's nothin' terribly large. He mostly just wants t' dine amongst his people an' see who would be willin' t' join those goin' t' Lake Town next week an' who are able to fight…" He set down the newly-cleaned mug and started to clean another. "With all the raids takin' place in the east, he doesn't want t' risk anythin' happening t' this one, even if it's goin' in the opposite direction."

She nodded slowly, letting her finger trace over one of the more prominent patterns in the grain of the bar. "So…basically, he wants t' bribe soldiers with good food an' drink so that they'll volunteer into comin' with us when they'd rather stay home an' be with their families," she stated. Glancing up at her father, she saw that he had a brow cocked and a wry grin on his lips.

"There's no pullin' the wool over your eyes, is there, 'Lee?"

Turning around, she kept her elbows on the bar and tilted her head back at her father. "Papa, I know well enough by now that if Bard wants t' get people in a good mood, he'll bring folk here instead of coopin' them up in his palace." She rubbed the back of her neck, her muscles feeling a bit stiff. "After all, five years ago, he was a commoner like us. He knows what the people like. That's why he's doin' such a good job."

"Aye, that he is," he agreed with a small nod. "Dare say he's doin' better than any of the Masters did when we were still in Lake Town." Setting the second cleaned mug down, he reached over and ruffled his daughter's hair. "Anyway, that's all I wanted t' tell you. You should get in the kitchen; dinner's going t' be ready soon enough and I'm expectin' a bit of a crowd tonight."

"Why's that?" she asked, pouting as she tried to fix her hair. Her brow rose; it was still damp from when she dumped water on it.

He shrugged. "The night before a king comes here. There's goin' to be gossip an' rumors spreading around."

"Ah, those are always goin' 'round," she chuckled. "Remember when he got engaged? Everyone thought it'd be some Dorwinion princess, but no. It was a healer from our own town." She started to walk off towards the kitchen. "I'll see ya later, papa."

~*~*~

It was nearing midnight when Baylee emerged from the kitchen for the last time. Wenna, Galiene, and the stable hands had all gone to their homes for the night and Warren and Will were back in the private quarters. She was more than a little surprised to find one of the inn's customer's still awake, though he seemed to be in a sort of trance. Rán sat by the heart, his eyes fixed on the flames as he sat in the chair that had been occupied by Bofur four hours ago.

He glanced up as she stepped out of the kitchen, his eyes noticing the heavy metal key she carried in her hand. Saying nothing, he turned back to watching the dying fire, one leg drawn to his chest. He heard the scraping of key in lock and the gentle creaking of shutters being closed.

"Do you do this every night?" he questioned. Though his voice was quiet, to Baylee, it sounded as if he were standing right next to her.

"No," she answered, walking across the room to get the far windows. "Mostly it's my father who does this, but he was tired, so I told him I'd handle the closin'."

He nodded slowly, eyes following her every move. While she was not tall by any means, she was close in stature to the woman of homeland. She was a bit thinner than them, but he supposed that was because she was always running around the inn. "I would think that it would be you who has turned in for the night. What, with the sparring practice you have during the day, are you not exhausted?"

Tucking a lock of hair behind her ear, she let out a tired laugh. "Trust me, milord, I am more than a wee bit tired. But it's nothin' I haven't felt before." She winced slightly as some hair caught on her ear cuff and she paused, taking a moment to untangle it. "Are you enjoyin' your stay here, by the way? An' please, be honest."

He chuckled. "It's much nicer than what I'm used to," he told her. "The price for rooms is fair, the food is delicious, and the drink even better. A few of my companions may not think so, but they have come from higher castes than myself, so they are used to luxury and servants waiting on them."

She cocked her head and closed the last set of shutters. "I wouldn't have expected nobles t' want t' join the rangers."

"It was no choice of theirs," he told her. "It is a requirement of our village that all who are of age join either the rangers or the healers."

"Interestin'," she murmured. "Why's that? Do ya do a lot o' fighting?" She started to lift chairs, putting them atop the tables so she could sweep.

He got up, beginning to help her; after all, there was around forty chairs to tend to. "When you live on the border between Dorwinion and the East, milady, there is almost always fighting of some sort, milady."

She frowned, glancing over at him. "Then why are you so far west? Aren't ya needed back in your home?"

He chuckled. "We were told that dwarves had returned to the Lonely Mountain and that their craftsmanship is magnificent," he explained, "so we came for better weapons. Our lands are not known for strong metals." From his side, he drew forth a hidden dagger and spun it around, offering its hilt to her.

Taking it, Baylee's eyes widened. The blade was made of sharpened bronze and the handle of carved bone. Both the metal were etched with strange designs, whether for decoration or protective spells, she did not know. "This is beautiful," she murmured, trying to take in every detail.

"Beautiful and functional, but not as strong as we would like," he remarked. He took the weapon back as she offered it to him. "It will take time for us to get used to the new weapons, but I am sure the investment of gold and energy will be more than worth it."

She nodded, moving to continue placing chairs on the tables. "So…then you've fought Easterlings? Have ya ever met them on peaceful terms?"

"Oh, plenty of times," he chimed. "The Easterlings we fight are tribes that have no love for those who worship the Valar. Those who dwell in cities, however, can be most friendly."

"That's always good," she started to say, but what came out was 'That's always', for she slipped in some spilled ale and started to tumble towards the ground, chair in hand.

Rán lurched forward, his arm wrapping around her waist and catching her. His other hand snatched up the chair that she had started to drop and set it lightly atop the table. He looked at her, worried. "Are you alright?" he asked.

Her cheeks were crimson. "A-aye, I'm fine," she told him. "Just a wee bit in shock right now." She swallowed hard and smiled shyly at him; he seemed to be even more handsome this close up.

Something moved in the upper reaches of his vision and he glanced up, seeing Bofur yawning as he came down the stairs. Seeing that he looked a bit startled, she tilted her head back only to giggle as she saw the tired dwarf. To her, he looked rather adorable; to anyone else (who was not a dwarf), he would have been found ridiculous.

Bofur, on the other hand, paused just before stepping off of the stairs. "Er…I'm not interruptin' some sort o' dance am I?" he cautiously asked. His cheeks turned a bit pink and a strange, unknown feeling came to the pit of his stomach as he watched Rán set Baylee upright.

"No. Miss Baylee slipped on some spilled drink," Rán explained, his voice as calm as ever. "I merely caught her before she could get hurt."

"An' I thank ya for it," Baylee told him, still giggling slightly. She turned back towards Bofur. "Is there anythin' I can get you, lad?"

He held up the pitcher of water from there room. "Nori stole all our water," he told her, "so I was just comin' down t' get some more."

She playfully rolled her eyes. "Well, we can't have that. Pardon me, milord." Bofur opened the kitchen door for her and she thanked him, not seeing that he gave Rán a wary look before following her in.

"I'm surprised you're still up, lass," he yawned. "It's got t' be the wee hours of the mornin' by now!" He shifted the pitcher to his other hand. Something about Rán and his rangers was beginning to feel 'off' to him, but he couldn't quite place it. 'It's not nice to judge strangers, Bofur,' he scolded himself. 'Especially if one just kept Miss Baylee from falling.'

Pulling bolt loose on the door, she headed outside. "Actually," she smiled, "it's just past midnight. I'd like t' be in bed, but I told papa I'd close up tonight. They've a long day ahead of them tomorrow." She started to turn the lever that would draw up the well's bucket.

"Ya don't have to do that, Baylee," he told her, lightly setting his hand atop hers to stop her. In the darkness, neither could see that the other started to blush. "I've got it. You've done enough by escortin' me out here."

A quiet, shy laugh left her mouth. "I'm just doin' my job, Bofur," she told him. Her voice was quiet; she didn't want to disturb the night.

His smile went unseen. "An' you're doing a wonderful job."

She bit her tongue and glanced away. "Thank you," she bashfully murmured.

"It's true," he chuckled. "You're always smilin' an' helpin' everyone…You even make Dwalin laugh, which is hard t' do if you're not tellin' crude jokes or boastin' about awesome feats in battle," he half-rambled. "You're like…a lil' ray of sunshine turned into a human t' keep people happy all the time."

Once again, Baylee found herself giggling. Both she and Bofur glanced up as the door to the kitchen opened unexpectedly. A beam of light shone out into the darkness, illuminating them. they could see the silhouette of Rán standing in the doorway, something held in his hand. Unconsciously, Baylee pulled her hand away from Bofur's, though soon regretted it; her hand grew cold in the night air.

"I'm sorry," he spoke, more to Baylee than to Bofur, "but I thought it best to refill my own water before turning into bed as well." Baylee knew that he had been put into a single-person room by request, so she was a little confused as to why his water hadn't been filled earlier in the day.

As the bucket reached the top of the well, she grabbed it for Bofur. "Did Wenna or Demelza not fill up your pitcher earlier?" she asked, brows furrowing slightly. It seemed a bit odd that they would forget.

Bofur raised his brow. It didn't seem possible to him that Rán had had enough time to go upstairs, open his room, grab the pitcher, and come all the way back down in the short amount of time that had passed since he and Baylee had come outside. 'Unless,' he thought, 'we dawdled a little longer than I thought…That certainly could have happened; I mean, I did ramble on for a bit there…' He tried to shove the thought from his mind. 'Stop distrustin' strangers,' he scolded again.

"They did," he told her, "but I do not blame them; there are many rooms that need tended to on a daily basis. It is understandable that they would forget one at least once in a while." He gave her a reassuring smile.

She nodded slowly, first filling Bofur's pitcher and then Rán's. "Well, I apologize. I'll make sure it doesn't happen again, milord."

He dismissively waved. "It is not of any trouble, Miss Baylee," he assured her. "I am sure it could have happened to any room –even Master Dwarf's room."

Bofur nodded slowly. "Aye, it could have," he agreed, "so don't you go worryin' about anything. You've already got enough balanced on your plate." He took the bucket from her and let it drop back into the well. "Speakin' o' which –you need t' get yourself off t' bed."

She shook her head as the three of them went back into the kitchen. "I still have t' sweep an' clean up that puddle." Bolting the door behind them, she untied her apron and picked up a dry cloth.

"The puddle I understand, but the floor is not very dirty," Rán told her. "I am positive you could leave sweeping for another time." He covered his mouth with the back of his hand as he yawned. "Pardon me…I must get to bed now." Giving them a small bow, he bade them goodnight and left Bofur and Baylee in the kitchen, Bofur watching him until he disappeared behind the door.

He turned to the human as she moved to pick up a broom. "He's right, Baylee," he told her, "you can leave the sweepin' for another time. You're exhausted, lass. In fact…" Setting his pitcher down, he gently plucked the cloth from her hands. "I'll clean up the puddle. You get yourself off t' bed. An' you leave the breakfast t' your da' an' brother."

"Bofur, I can't let ya-"

He held up a hand, wiggling his index finger while the other hand rested on his hip. "Ah, ah, ah!" he said, his tone a mixture of teasing and scolding. "Dwarrow's orders. Off t' bed with ya, lass!" He made a shooing motion at her, grinning as, giggling, Baylee turned and hurried off. As he went to go clean up the mess, he paused for a moment, looking at a shelf.

"Huh," he murmured aloud. "Could have sworn there was a pitcher there a few minutes ago…" He shrugged and continued on his way, thinking no more of it.


	10. Chapter 10

"Honestly, Baylee, I don't know how ya managed t' get the luck o' catchin' his eye."

"An' I honestly don't know what in Yavanna's name you're talkin' about, lass."

"How can you not notice!? He's always talking with ya an' he's havin' you be the one tendin' to him an' his rangers!"

"Maybe that's because you've been flirtin' a lil' too much with them, hmm?"

Wenna glanced over her shoulder at Baylee, forgetting for a moment about the vegetables she was trying to pick out for Galiene. "I haven't flirted with them in nigh three days an' you know it."

She rolled her eyes, lifting a winter squash and carefully looking it over. If it had even the slightest of marring on its surface, she knew Galiene wouldn't use it –that was how nervous she was about hosting the king that night. "I know, Wenna. It's called a jest." She put the squash in her basket. "Have you noticed the scarrin' on his lips?"

Her brows furrowed. "He has scars on his lips?"

"A few o' them do; like they had been sewn shut. It's odd."

"Maybe it's a mark of the Dorwinion rangers?" She turned back to the vegetables, looking for something bright and colorful that Galiene would like. "Mouths sewn shut for silence…rangers are meant t' be silence when out in the wild…Makes sense."

"Sounds painful. Don't get those; we've plenty o' carrots."

Setting the carrots down, Wenna sighed and pushed some hair from her face. "Even you've admitted he's handsome, though." She produced some coins from a pouch at her side and handed them to the owner of the stall. "So that must count for something."

"Aye, he is handsome. Has a bit o' a weak jaw though…" She paid for the squashes and followed Wenna towards the pre-cooked end of the market. "Have ya noticed that?"

Wenna nodded. "Aye. An' he is a wee bit short."

"Short?" Baylee asked, her brow rising.

"You haven't noticed?"

Baylee laughed. "He's taller than me, that's all I know."

"Baylee…anyone who isn't a dwarf is taller than you. Though…Mister Dwalin is almost as tall as you."

She rolled her eyes and laughed. "Ha, ha."

"In all honesty though," Wenna continued as she stopped at a stand selling hand pies, "Rán isn't much taller than you. He's…actually, you remember how tall Lovisa is? Two, please. One apple, one cherry."

Baylee watched as the stand owner exchanged the two, still-warm pies in exchange for four copper coins. Wenna handed the cherry one to her. "Ooh, thank you. An' of course I do. She only watched over me an' Will for thirteen years."

"Well, he's between her height and your height."

She frowned, the hand-pie almost in her mouth; she lowered it. "You're jokin'."

She shook her head. "No, I'm not. Haven't you noticed? He's the shortest o' the rangers." She took a bite of her pie, steam billowing out into the morning air. "Not tha' that's a bad thing, mind you," she quickly added, her mouth full of pie. "It makes him all the better t' cuddle in my opinion."

"I guess I never really noticed…I mean, until last night, I only ever see him sittin'." She finally took a bite out of her pie as she and Wenna sat down on a bench. The younger woman gave her a confused look and she hurriedly finished her bite. "Last night, I was closin' up and putting the chairs on the tables when I slipped in someone's spilled ale," she explained. "He caught me before I could fall."

Wenna gawked at her; Baylee was thankful that she had remembered to swallow her food before her mouth had fallen slack.

"What?" she asked, blinking.

"He…caught you?"

"Wenna, it's not that big o' a deal, alright?" She sighed. "Truthfully, it was awkward. He just sort o' held me there for a few minutes until Bofur came down for water." She was about to take a second bite. "Oh! That reminds me. Who was in charge o' rooms yesterday?"

"Me," she answered through a mouthful of pie.

"Well, you forgot to refill his pitcher.

It was Wenna's turn to frown. "No I didn't. I always start at that end o' the inn an' make my way backwards. I know I filled it."

Baylee's brows furrowed. "But he came out last night an' had to get it filled. He said it hadn't been filled."

"Baylee, I wouldn't lie 'bout doing my job like that. His is the second room, right next t' Nori's. Nori even saw me come out of the room after filling it."

She sighed, shaking her head. "Then I don't know. Maybe he had been up there earlier in the night and drank it all and forgot?"

Wenna shrugged, finishing her pie. "I think he just wanted an excuse to stay with you longer."

At that, Baylee snorted. "Well if that's the case, then he must have been disappointed because Bofur was there as well." A warm smile came to her lips as she brushed the crumbs off her dress. "That reminds me…I need t' get some sweets for him."

"Who? Rán?"

"No, Bofur."

"Oh…Why's that?"

Taking the last bite of her own pie, Baylee stood up and grabbed her baskets. "He sent me t' bed last night an' cleaned up the spilled ale an' swept for me."

Wenna blinked, her head tilted. "Really? But he's not staff…" Her brow rose as she saw a bit of color on Baylee's cheeks.

"No, an' he only told me that he'd clean up the ale…So, let me get some sweets for him an' then we'll stop by his an' Bifur's shop on the way back t' the Tankard."

Within ten minutes, the two young women were backtracking through the market. As they neared the shop owned by Bifur and Bofur, they could see two carts filled with crates parked outside of the door. Baylee raised her brow, wondering what was going on. As they drew closer, however, the two of them could see that the crates were being taken into the shop.

"Ah! They've bringin' in their toys," Baylee thought aloud.

Wenna chuckled. "Well, that means they'll be opening soon, right?" Baylee nodded. "Ah, good! I'll tell my sister so she can get her wee ones some toys soon."

Baylee nodded as she opened the door to the shop for Wenna. 'That's actually not a bad idea. Maybe when they open I'll buy a few things for my wee cousins,' she thought, following the younger woman into the building. She was rather surprised to see that the front room of the shop was no longer white –save for the ceiling. On all sides, they were surrounded by bright blue and green that was broken only by the brown trunks of trees that Ori was now painting. "It's lookin' quite nice in here, Ori!" she chirped.

Ori glanced over his shoulder as he stood on a stool, his cheeks flushing. "Th-thank you, Miss Baylee," he smiled. "Do you need anything?"

"We've brought lunch," Wenna answered, looking around. This was her first time in the shop and, while it did not look like much yet to her, she had a feeling that it would end up being quite a nice place since Will was helping. "Where are the others?"

"Oh, they'll be back down soon enough," he answered. "They're just packing things away upstairs."

Baylee perked. "So…Will isn't here?"

He shook his head, climbing off of his stool. "No. He's off gettin' the shelving and tables."

The thudding of footsteps coming down the stairs was heard.

"Ku'zu aglâb?" Bifur asked before he and his cousin entered the room. "Ah! Az-Baylee, Az-Wenna," he smiled. "Tanakzu tashfab ablugur?"

Bofur lightly smacked his shoulder, grinning. "Of course they came with food. Baylee always brings us food!"

It was about then that the two females noticed that the two dwarves weren't wearing shirts. Instead, they were clad in just their vests, which they had fastened shut for decency's sake. They could see why they were shirtless, however: Both were quite red in the face and had sweat rolling down their skin from hauling in the crates and having to go up the stairs.

Baylee tilted her head slightly, her eyes following along the intricate blue and green patterns tattooed into the skin along Bofur's shoulders and biceps. "Er, aye! We brought food!" she chirped after a moment. She had thought only powerful dwarves like Dwalin had tattoo…seeing that Bofur and Bifur had some as well made her wonder if Nori and Ori also had the markings. "An', actually, I was wanting to talk to you lads about somethin' since Will isn't here."

Ori glanced over his shoulder, a slightly worried look on his face. "Is he in trouble?" he asked, eyes wide. Wenna couldn't help but giggle at his look; it was adorable.

"No, he's not in trouble," Baylee reassured him as she headed for the backroom. They had a table set up in there. "It's our birthday next month an' well…I was wonderin' if you three had any ideas about what I should get him?" Setting one of her baskets down on the table, she started to lay out its contents for the three dwarves.

Bifur scratched his beard. "Ghiluzûrk? Hmm…"

"Well, the lad's already got himself a fine set o' carving tools," Bofur told her. "So no need for some o' those…" He scratched the top of his head, trying to think.

"Khulhu nik zurkuri?"

"What sorts o' things does he like?" Ori translated as he came into the room. "Ooh! Chips!" He hurried over to the table and hurried grabbed a handful of the fried potatoes from a bowl. "And they're still warm!"

Wenna giggled again; Ori was always so happy when chips were present. "It's hard t' tell with Will. He's always helpin' others, I don't think he really has time to do things he wants to do."

Baylee frowned slightly. "Not true. Whenever he's missin', he's usually in his room readin' or sneaking off t' see-" She caught herself before she could spill her brother's secret, "the stars," she managed to lie.

"Gimil?" Bifur asked, tilting his head. "Iranak uhi…"

Bofur nodded in agreement. "Wouldn't have thought him t' be a stargazer myself," he chuckled. "Though, if anythin', I'd say the lad needs a new pair o' boots. I've seen the state his are in an', from what I've heard, he's travelin' a lot durin' the summer autumn an' winter, so a new pair would do him good." Reaching over, he plucked a carrot from the table and started to munch on it.

Ori nodded in agreement, trying to add in helpful insight, but his mouth was full of chips, leaving his only accomplishment to be spraying Bifur's beard with wet crumbs. He grinned sheepishly as Bifur's brow rose while he brushed the crumbs away.

Baylee also nodded. "Boots may be good," she murmured. "An' a new cloak for when he does travel in winter…" A grin slowly spread across her fates. "Aye! Those sound perfect. Thanks for the help, lads!"

Wenna's brow rose as she watched Baylee hug the three dwarves. Was Baylee going to forget the sweets she had gotten for Bofur or…?

"Oh!" Baylee chirped, as if reading Wenna's mind. "Bofur, could I ah…talk with ya in private for a moment?" Neither she nor Bofur noticed as Ori and Bifur glanced at each other, grinning.

He nodded, crunching on a bite of carrot. "Sure, lass," he smiled before leading her out into the backyard. It had been tidied up some since she was last out here, but not by much. Someone had cleared away the dead plant life from around the plum tree's trunk. "What is it ya wanted t' talk with me about?"

Baylee held out the small, cloth bag full of sweets to him. "Thank you for sweepin'," she said, her cheeks still a bit flushed. "Ya really didn't have to do it."

Hesitantly, he took the bag from her, tucking the carrot into his belt. "It was nothin', Baylee," he told her with a warm smile. "You were exhausted an' I had more rest than yo-" He peeked into the back. "-Ooh! Hard candies!" he cried gleefully. Forgetting all about the carrot in his belt, he tipped the sack over into his palm, urging a few of the candies to fall out.

Giggling, she lightly shook her head. "Regardless, thank you; it was a big help t' me."

"Like I said, it was nothin'. I'm sure Bifur or Ori would have done the same," he grinned. He popped one of the candies into his mouth and offered the other one to her. "Anyway, it's good t' do work like that. Aye, we're payin' your father for us t' live there for the time bein', but helpin' out with even just the smallest of chores helps make it feel less of a burden on you lot."

She shyly took the candy offered. "You lads would never be a burden on us. You're too amusin' an' nice."

He quietly laughed, feeling his cheeks turn red. "No, I think it's you who's too nice, Baylee. An' I'm quite sure we went over this very subject last night, Miss Ray-of-Sunshine."

Her cheeks flushed darkly and she laughed. "Aye well…I'm not the one who's the Hero o' The Full Tankard," she teased as she shyly looked at her feet. "Savin' damsels from droppin' a tray o' food from her head."

"Well, it'd be a mighty big waste o' food otherwise," he laughed. "These are good candies…where did ya get them?"

"There's a shop about the middle of the market," she explained, "an' it's open only twice a week, so you've got t' get there fairly early –on a normal day. They're Dale's only candy-makers."

He fished around in the bag for another candy. "Well, it's good t' know that I'll be livin' so close to one," he chuckled. Wenna poked her head out of the door and he leaned over, glancing at her.

"Baylee, we should head back. Galiene's going to have our hides tanned if we don't get these baskets to her," she said, watching as Baylee turned around.

She nodded. "I'm comin'," she smiled. She glanced over her shoulder at Bofur. "I'll see ya at dinner?"

He grinned. "O' course."

The two women left the toyshop just as Will was arriving with a cartful of furniture. They waved at him and let him know that his lunch was waiting for him before continuing on their way.

"So, did Bofur like the candies?" Wenna asked, wincing slightly as she felt her shoulders beginning to ache. Their baskets were almost overflowing with all sorts of vegetables, herbs, paper-wrapped meats, and even some winter fruits, making the loads quite heavy.

"He was gobblin' them up when we left," she chuckled, reaching over to take one of Wenna's baskets from her. "Wasn't the place lookin' nice, though? They've put so much work into it…"

Tucking some hair behind her ear, she nodded. "I supposed it looked like the rest of the buildings when we came here?" she asked. Baylee nodded. "Well, then it is coming along nicely –and quickly! They've barely been here two months."

"They're dwarves; they work faster than us humans."

"Would you two like some help?"

Stopping, they glanced over their shoulders and saw Rán and one of the female rangers –they knew her name to be Ashailyn- walking towards them. Baylee cocked her head; Rán was short. How had she not noticed before?

"Some help would be lovely," Wenna answered, smiling shyly. Ashailyn reached over, taking two of Wenna's baskets –a large one and a small one. Rán took two of Baylee's; the heaviest two.

"Thank you," Baylee smiled, starting to walk again. "So, you two out explorin' the city today or did you have business t' attend to?"

Ashailyn flicked a braid over her shoulder. "A bit of both, actually," she answered, her accent thicker than Rán's. "Scouting out places to buy supplies for our return while exploring city."

Wenna nodded in understanding. "You're leaving soon, then?"

"Four days," Rán replied. Baylee thought his voice sounded a bit higher than normal, but he was also having to raise his voice thanks to the noise of the crowded street. "We only wait on the weapons we've bought from the dwarves of Erebor."

"At least you'll know they'll be of quality," Baylee chuckled. "Even their worst smiths are better than most human smiths I've seen."

Ashailyn tilted her head curiously. "You've seen many?"

"My father used t' be a smith," she explained, "so he knows most o' the smiths in Dale an' in Lake Town. When he bought the inn, they would always come an' eat there; eventually, they became sort o' like aunts an' uncles to me."

Rán looked at her, more than a little surprised by her words. "Aunts? There are female smiths?"

It was Wenna who answered this time. "Lake Town had two female smiths, a mother and daughter. They didn't make swords or axes, but daggers an' cutlery an' jewelry."

"I do not think I have ever heard of a female smith," Rán murmured. "Interesting. Do you know if they are still around?"

"The mother passed on two years ago," Baylee replied as they turned a corner. The Full Tankard stood before them, welcoming them back with its cheery look. "An' I don't quite know if the daughter still smiths; I'll find out next week."

"You…are going south with the caravan?" Ashailyn asked.

"Aye. My uncle needs my help in bringin' all his medicines back up this way. Plus, I'd like t' see my cousins again." As they reached the front of the inn, they stopped. "We can take the baskets from here," she smiled.

Handing the baskets back, Ashailyn and Rán both gave deep bows to the two women before giving them each a kiss on the back of their hand. As they saw their cheeks turn deep red, they grinned and bid farewell to Wenna and Baylee before disappearing into the inn. Wenna began to quietly giggle while they walked into the inn yard, the laughter having a sort of dreamy tone to it. Baylee gave her a little shove and rolled her eyes, though she giggled as well.

"There you two lollygaggers are!" Galiene cried as they came into the kitchen. She and Demelza were bustling about the room, tending to various pots and pans on the two hearths and things that were baking in the oven.

"Sorry, Galiene," they apologized in unison.

Demelza walked over, taking the basket of squashes. "My, my! What's got you two lasses in such a flush?"

Wenna's eyes widened. "N-Nothing!" she lied.

Baylee cocked her brow. "Rán an' Ashailyn kissed the back o' our hands an' we got a bit giggly," she answered truthfully. Setting her baskets down on the counter, she started to empty them. "We got everything you asked for –even managed to get the last o' the spicy sausage."

Coming over, Galiene inspected the food that they had bought. "Good, good…I've already got the pig over the fire," She absentmindedly waved towards the outside door. When they had come into the yard, the two women had seen a stretch of the yard that had been dug up and covered with damp burlap sacks. They knew that, under those sacks, was a two-hundred pound hog, vegetables and dried fruit shoved into the cavity of its stomach. "I want you two t' eat some lunch an' then Baylee, you're on desserts. Wenna, you're on…"

"I can't cook," Wenna quickly told her. "Remember when I tried t' make porridge? It caught fire. It's liquid an' it caught fire!"

Galiene gave her a surprisingly gentle look for being so worried about that night. "I know, lass. You're goin' to be on serving duty with Peter."

Her eyes widened. "P-Peter is on serving duty? But he's the stable hand!"

"We're busy, lass, an' we're not expectin' any horses t' come in today. Warren will be out helpin' with the serving later, when Baylee's sitting in on the meeting."

She looked up from getting her and Wenna a loaf of bread. "What? I have t' go to the meeting?"

"You're going to Lake Town, aren't you?"

"Well, aye, but I thought Uncle was the one who…"

Demelza laughed. "Lass, you're an adult now. You get t' sit in on the boring adult meetings that come with traveling in groups."

She let out a sigh. "Well, at least I have somethin' t' look forward to, I guess…"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"So, how did yeh manage t' talk Dori into lettin' yeh stay away from home so long?"

"Well, the first time, I had Nori's help. He kept teasin' Dori and calling him a mother hen until he finally relented and told me I could stay."

"An' the second?"

"We…had a small argument a couple of nights ago. I sort of…blew up and yelled at him." Ori felt his cheeks turn red and he glanced at his feet, still feeling the shame of that night. He let out a small noise of surprise and was barely able to catch himself as Dwalin let out a loud laugh and heartily thumped him on the back. To his luck, his pencil hadn't been on his sketchbook, leaving it free from any stray marks.

"Good job, laddie!" he laughed. "It's about time yeh spoke up for yerself!" He wore a proud grin as he looked down at the younger dwarf. "Now, if yeh did that more often, I'm sure yeh'd be travelin' all 'round Middle Earth like the rest o' us."

His cheeks turning red again, Ori bashfully smiled. "I'm fine with seeing Lake Town again for now," he told him. "You never know –by the time I come back, I may want to stay cooped up inside the mansion with Dori," he joked.

Dwalin shook his head, still quietly laughing. "Yeh may have the mind o' a scholar, Ori, but I know yeh well enough. Yeh've got yerself the heart o' a traveler." He leaned back against the ruined part of the building he and Ori were sitting on, staring up at the midday clouds while one of his legs idly hung over the edge of the wall, swinging. Tucking his hands behind his head, he grinned. "Before we went out on tha' journey, yeh may have been entirely a scholar, but yeh had that look about you."

"What look?" he inquired, turning his attention back to the parchment. He glanced up only to check an angle or how a certain part of the city looked.

"The look o' curiosity. Yeh an' Fili an' Kili had it." A quiet sigh left his mouth and he closed his eyes. Of all the dwarves in Thorin's Company, save for Thorin and Balin, Dwalin had been the closest to the two young princes. He had taught them how to fight, helped Balin with their lessons, and even watched over them when Dís or Thorin were unable. "Yeh three were the most optimistic o' the group. I don't think any o' us save for yeh lot were really expectin' t' get the Mountain back."

Ori's pencil paused on the page as he heard the note of sadness in Dwalin's voice. Daring to glance at him, he could see that Dwalin had his jaw clenched tight and he was breathing deeply as he did his best to not shed any tears. Putting his pencil in the crook of his book, he closed it and set it aside.

Dwalin's eyes snapped open as he felt arms wrap around him and he looked down, seeing Ori holding onto him. He felt his cheeks grow hot in embarrassment and he sighed, burying his face in the younger dwarf's hair. "I'm fine," he murmured. "I just miss 'em."

"We all do," he mumbled, his voice muffled by the fur around Dwalin's shoulders. "But you have it the hardest." Dwalin let out a shaky sigh and closed his eyes again, pulling Ori closer to him as he quietly sniffled. "It's alright to cry. I won't tell anyone."

"'M not goin' t' cry. Just got the sniffles."

Ori smiled, knowing that he had pouted slightly at the mere idea of him crying. "Need a handkerchief?" He felt him nod and he reached into his pocket, pulling one out.

Dwalin took it and pulled back, blowing his nose. The noise was like a trumpet in Ori's ears and he winced, being taken by surprise. Twice more, Dwalin blew his nose before wiping his face clean. Just as he was about to hand the handkerchief back, he thought better of it and grinned sheepishly.

"I'll ah…wash this an' give it back later," he murmured, tucking it into the back of his belt.

Opening his sketchbook again, he chuckled and started to draw again. "It's not even mine, really. I nicked it from Nori this morning."

His brow rose. "Did yeh now?" he asked, drawing his knee to his chest and resting his arm on it. "An' I supposed he had nicked it from someone else?" Ori nodded and shifted his position. "Still nickin' stuff when he's got all the gold he could ever want…" He shook his head.

"It must be an odd form of the Dragon Fever," he commented. His head tilted slightly, finding that his pencil had left the sketch of the city in favor of doodling portrait of Dwalin. A warm smile came to his lips. "But he's been getting better about it. It's been awhile since he's done anything horrible." He used his pinky to do a bit of shading. 'Except for sleeping with that human's wife…' he thought.

"That's always good t' hear." He stood up on the wall (which annoyed Ori, as he had been trying to perfect the pose) and started to walk along its length. "Do yeh come up here often?"

"Not often, but I have been here once or twice," he answered, continuing to work out the pose, even if Dwalin had moved. He was determined to get it right.

He looked down at the city. From where he stood, he could see that the city was built over the top of a large hill, it streets rising and falling with its uneven peaks. There were two especially tall slopes –atop one sat King Bard's palace; atop the other was the Full Tankard. He chuckled, thinking he could see Baylee or Will leaning out of a window to shake out a blanket.

It was obvious where the city was populated; the buildings looked to be in better shape and there was fuller, healthier plant life. The rest of the city was surprisingly barren, though sections were slowly being repaired. King Bard was doing his best to not empty the city's treasury on the repairs; there were so many other things that needed to be done alongside fixing up buildings.

Directly below him, however, there were no buildings. The wide, curved boughs of peach trees in full blossom shaded the headstones and tombs of the ancient dead. Shaking his head, he turned around and hopped off of the wall. Ori didn't look up; he was too absorbed in his drawing. With a small grin, Dwalin crept up behind him and rested his chin on his shoulder, peeking at what he was doing.

"Lad, I've got bigger muscles 'n that," he teased, seeing the small portrait.

His cheeks flushing, Ori snapped the sketchbook shut and clutched it to his chest. "Who said I was drawing you?" he squeaked, glancing up at him. He wore a defiant pout that made Dwalin laugh. "It could have been some…other muscular dwarrow, you know! You're not the only-" He was silenced as Dwalin leaned forward, stealing a kiss from his lips.

"Yeh cannae fool me, Ori," he murmured with a grin. "Yeh like me too much t' go off an' draw other blokes." He kissed him a second time, his large hand rising up so that his thumb could lightly stroke his cheek.

"Just don't tell Dori 'n Nori," Ori lamented against his lips. "They'll have my hide if ever they found out about us."

Dwalin easily lifted Ori and took his seat, placing the other dwarf on his lap. He buried his face in his neck, his eyes closing as he quietly breathed in his scent. "They won't find out, not until yer good 'n ready. Alright, lad?" Ori felt him smile against his skin. "We'll jus' keep goin' off at different times like we do…Though, I'm pretty sure Nori has a feelin' o' what's goin' on betwixt us."

"Why do you say that?" He started to toy with Dwalin's beard, combing through it with his fingers.

He let out a quiet, though deep, chuckle. "He glares at me whenever he sees me talkin' t' yeh or whenever yeh an' me return from bein' out t'gether."

Ori frowned. "Well, that'd make him a bloody great hypocrite, wouldn't it?" He shook his head and sighed, starting to braid Dwalin's hair. "The only reason they wouldn't like knowin' about us is because you're so much older 'n me…"

"Bah! Yer mum was nearly twice the age o' yer father. They shouldn't have a problem."

He cleared his throat. "That's…exactly why, Dwalin. Since he was so much younger…He um. Well, Nori and I have half-siblings elsewhere. He and our mum never married, either…so…" His cheeks turned red and he shifted uncomfortably; his father had always been a sore spot for him.

"…Oh. Well…they won't have t' worry about that with us. I'm not 'bout t' go runnin' off on yeh." He glanced down, watching as Ori started to deftly braid a section of his beard and he smiled. "Don't make 'em too intricate…Nori'll know."

"Not that they'll stay long. I have no way of tying them."

Dwalin shrugged. "They'll stay long enough," he told him. "At least through dinner." A mischievous grin came to his lips as kissed the tip of Ori's nose. "Maybe I'll have yeh redo 'em afterwards?"

Ori's cheeks turned bright red at the suggestion. "Nori would kill you!"

"That's why I was jus' jestin', lad."

"Oh…"

~*~*~*~*~*~

Baylee slowly took a drink from her mug of ale as she sat across from her uncle in the middle of the inn's longest table. King Bard sat at the end of the table, his form given an ethereal glow by the fire behind him. He was a grim man to look upon, despite his youth –he was barely ten years older than Baylee and Will- though he knew his people well and treated them all with fairness. At the moment, he and the rest of the table's occupants were discussing the trip down to Lake Town and what precautions they would take to ensure that raiders would not be able to get the best of them should they happen across some.

But Baylee could not, for the life of her, manage to pay attention.

Being raised as hostess, she found herself glancing around the inn, wanting to get up and help Wenna, Demelza, and Peter. She also had the urge to get up and refill the tankards and chalices lining the table. Not to mention, the dwarves seemed to be having quite a bit of fun entertaining some of the guests by tossing plates and food around; they dropped no crumbs or dinnerware. Ori, she saw, sat a little ways away from his fellow dwarves, his dinner sitting before him as he focused on sketching something in his sketchbook, his head slightly cocked to the side.

More than once she found herself forced back into listening by Richard, who lightly kicked her shin.

The fourth or fifth time she got her shin kicked, she hid her embarrassed blush behind her mug and glanced at the king. He was slowly chewing on one of Galiene's honey biscuits, nodding as he listened to the man closest to him.

"So, y' see, milord," spoke the man, his voice timid, "that by sending out a few of our most reputed soldiers with the group, the raiders would be less inclined t' attack to attack them. No raider in his right o' mind would want t' fight against a fully armed soldier, especially one who's trained with bow, sword, an' spear."

Bard nodded slowly, setting his biscuit down. "From the reports we've heard," he told the man, "the raiders are a rabble of men and goblins, most –if not all- of whom are warg riders. I do not think that a few soldiers would put them off to attacking, should they venture this far west."

Baylee frowned at this. "Goblins? I thought the few who survived the War had fled into the Withered Heath?" she thought aloud. Her cheeks darkened as many of the men glanced at her, their brows raised in mixtures of annoyance and surprise. She shrank in her seat slightly, earning a pitied look from her uncle.

Bard's face seemed to soften a bit as he looked at her; she was the youngest person amongst their group and only one of three females going on the trip. "You are correct," he told her, "but these raiders do not hail from our lands or any lands this side of the River Running-"

"They're a mixed rabble o' Easterlings, goblins, an' rejects from Dorwinion, lass," another man interrupted, his voice gruff. "The men pay the goblins with gold an' the bo-"

"Enough," Bard commanded. He gave the man a dark look, causing him to look down at his plate. "There is no need to stir up fear amongst those seeking to see family and friends." He took a long drink from his mug, glancing around the common room. It was a full house tonight, with even the private rooms overflowing with guests. "As I was saying, these goblins come from beyond our borders to the east. They were not present in the War, nor do they have much care for the defeat of their brethren, Miss Baylee."

She nodded slowly, fiddling with the handle of her mug. It was loose. She would get papa to fix it later. Across the room, a burst of raucous laughter erupted from the dwarven table; men were betting on how far of a distance could be put between Nori and Bofur as they tossed hard-boiled eggs into one another's mouths. She smiled fondly at the two, but her attention was quickly drawn back to the matter at hand as Richard cleared his throat. Glancing up, she watched as he leaned an elbow on the table.

"Milord," he began, "every report we've gotten about the recent attacks state that the victims were one t' two days away from the city."

Bard nodded. "That is indeed correct."

"Well, wouldn't that be an incorrect measurement of the distance then?" He ignored the strange looks he received from the folk around him. Bard lifted his brow, a sign that he should continue. "The caravans that were attacked used all speed granted t' them in order t' arrive at Dale quicker once they were attacked. A distance that would normally take a single, casual rider an entire day t' cover would easily be traversed over half a day by a group of wagons fearing for their lives." There were still some confused glances and murmurs being thrown about.

"Meaning that the raids are actually taking place at a greater distance than what we had originally thought," Bard explained. Richard nodded and a small smile graced the king's lips, managing to soften his appearance greatly. "That is indeed true, Healer Harrison, and I entirely forgot to take that into account."

A chorused of relieved sighs filled the air around Baylee and her uncle and many of the men relaxed in their chairs.

"But it would still do well t' bring some soldiers along with us," the timid man from earlier spoke up. "Just on the off chance, sir."

"There'll be plenty o' young lads willin' t' strike somethin' with their bows 'n spears," the gruff man half-snapped. "Even a ninny like you can use a bow."

"His concerns are legitimate," Bard scolded, putting the man in his place. "There is no road yet leading between the two cities –which is why I am sending a cartographer and an architect with the group, as well as some soldiers that I will personally choose."

"E-excuse me?" Baylee leaned forward, her eyes widening a bit as she spotted the blondish-brown top of Ori's head near the king. "I was wonderin' if there was, perhaps, room enough for a dwarrow on this venture?"

Baylee frowned as she heard the man beside her start to snicker. A few spots down, the other two women were quietly giggling and whispering to one another how 'adorable' it was that a 'wee dwarfling' wanted to go on such a big journey.

Bard, however, gave Ori a respectful nod. "Master Ori. It has been a long while since last I saw you. How are your brothers?" This took many of the sniggering men by surprise.

"Quite well, my lord," Ori answered, giving him a nervous smile. His hands were fidgeting with his gloves. "Dori's opened trade with some cloth merchants here in Dale an' Nori's actin' as his negotiator."

"Good to hear. And yes, of course there's room for a dwarf such as yourself. Though, I must ask, how did you come to know of it?"

Ori glanced down the table, motioning at Baylee. "You see, my lord, I've been staying here at the Tankard for a few weeks now and Miss Baylee and I have grown to be quite good friends, so I heard of it from her an' her uncle. I think it would be nice to visit Lake Town again and see how it's been rebuilt."

"I see." He threw a small look at the young woman and she thought she could see a hint of a smile. "I would have you know, however, that there are concerns of raiders-"

Ori nodded quickly. "I know, my lord," he interrupted, his cheeks turning crimson, "I've…ah…been listening in, to be honest. I didn't want to be rude and interrupt important discussions, so I was just waiting for a time to ask…"

At that, Bard let out a surprisingly pleasant laugh. "Were you now? Well, eavesdrop no more and come join us, Master Ori. Our discussions are almost over, though, so you need not worry about having to sit too long."

Some room for the dwarf was made as Richard and another man scooted apart, letting Ori climb atop a stool that was too tall for him to reach the floor. Baylee quietly giggled; he seemed so happy and excited to be joining them on such a small quest. Before long, the discussions were finished and things were settled: The group would leave in a week's time, in the early morning. They would travel down the river on three sturdy rafts and stay in the city for a week. After that, they would return to Dale via rented horses, ponies, or on foot. They would be back within two and a half weeks.

As dinner drew to a close and bellies were feeling full, Bard stood up, toasting the hospitality of Warren, his family, and his staff for such a magnificent meal and the wonderful company. Everyone drank to their health. Then, he clapped his hands together and called for the dishes to be cleared, tables and chairs to be moved aside, and for musicians to ready their instruments.

"Another party?" Ori laughed as Baylee stood, starting to gather up the dishes.

"Two in the same month! Normally this doesn't happen!" she laughed.

Turning, Ori whistled to his fellow dwarves. They looked up, a little startled by the sudden noise, but they grinned as he tossed a plate at his brother. Nori easily caught it, his braided eyebrow rising as he flicked the plate to Bifur, who caught it in his out-stretched hands. Above the noise, Bofur's voice broke out:

Hey! Ho! The Tankard's brimful!

Tables and chairs together we'll cull.

Gather the plates and snatch the mugs,

A party we'll have tonight!

Clear a space and don't be slugs!

Dump the bowls, empty the plates,

Wash 'em up and stack 'em straight!

Collect the mugs and fill them all!

But don't you let a single drop fall!

Let the music fill the room,

Let it chase away any gloom!

Flutes be heard, harps be strung,

A party we'll have tonight!

Let all the songs of old be sung!

Watch the pretty ladies dance

While the men stare in a trance!

Their skirts twirl round 'n round

As they spin across the ground!

Hey! Ho! The Tankard's brimful!

Let the music fill your skull!

Come dance with us until the dawn,

A party we'll have tonight!

When you'll fall asleep on the lawn!

As the group of dwarves sang, they ran around the common room, tossing plates, bowls, and cups to one another, perfect stacks filling their hands. Once they could hold no more, they handed the stacks off to Demelza, Peter, Wenna, and even Baylee, who hurried them into the kitchen. Such amusement the five dwarves brought to the curious humans that even Bard was laughing –a hard feat to achieve.

What was most surprising to the staff of the Tankard, however, was when they poked their heads into the kitchen, Bifur was standing at the washbasin, surrounded by heaps of cleaned dishware.

Leaving the kitchen for the final time, Baylee let out a small curse as Will snatched her up, bringing her onto the dance floor. She laughed as the two of them twirled around the room, her being just able to keep up with her brother's much longer strides. As they danced around, the music of various flutes, clarinets, and fiddles filled her ears as well as the sound of laughter.

It was a most welcome change from the dreary meeting.

The music started to go faster and she suddenly found herself dancing with one of the Dorwinion rangers. Despite him not being from Dale or Lake Town, he was able to keep up with the dance, a large grin on his lips. He twirled Baylee around in a circle, his head tilting as the other men did the same with their partners; all the colors of the swirling skirts looked like a tornado of flower petals spinning around.

When they switched partners again, Baylee found herself locking hands and spinning in a circle with Bifur. She thought he looked very much like an excited mastiff with his black-and-white braids swinging back and forth. He tried to tell her something, but a mixture of the sound around them and the Khuzdul language rendered him unintelligible to her ears.

The song finally ended and many people were left staggering about, laughing in their dizziness. Bifur managed a polite, although wobbling, bow to Baylee, who somewhat managed to curtsey. Giggling, she stumbled over to a spot in the corner where her father sat, blowing smoke rings into the ceiling. He shook his head, quietly laughing as she flopped down in a chair, her vision still swirling around.

"Havin' fun?" he inquired, watching as she slightly wobbled. He cocked his head as a new song started to play. It wasn't nearly as fast as the last one, nor as loud, though it was still a fun tune.

"Oh, aye," she grinned, "gettin' out o' cleaning duty an' bein' yanked into a dance by my clumsy brother all in one night?"

Warren ruffled her hair. "He's not that clumsy. He's never stepped on your foot has he?" He shook his head and chewed on the end of his pipe. "How did the meeting go?"

She glanced away innocently. "It was boring…I kept gettin' distracted, so uncle had to keep towing my attention back t' the matters at hand."

He nodded in understanding. "You're young," he told her, "an' not used to dealin' with such matters. Maybe with the next meetin', you'll be better prepared?" He grinned teasingly at her as she cocked a brow.

"I hope I don't have t' sit through one of those meetings again," she told him, her vision finally holding still. She brushed some hair from her face, watching as Will skipped by with a very curvy, red-haired woman. 'Ooh, Will, lad –you're being dangerous there,' she thought, her eyes widening. 'Dancing with Adela in the inn…' She stole a peek at her father, seeing his brows knitted together before turning back at her twin. A small smile came to her lips, despite the risky situation; the two of them looked so in love…

"Wasn't that Stover's daughter…?" he inquired, chewing on the end of his pipe.

She shrugged. "Hard sayin'," she lied. "I wasn't paying attention."

 

Across the room, Bofur was sitting with the Dwalin and taking a drink from his fifth ale that night. He was only just starting to feel a bit tipsy, but it was working to put him in quite a content mood. Ori, Nori, and Bifur were lost somewhere in the crowd of dancing folk; he thought he could spot glances of Bifur every now and then, if only because of the ax.

"Yeh know," Dwalin chortled, "I half expected t' see yeh out there, dancin' about."

He shrugged. "Maybe with the next song," he grinned. "I'm tryin' t' see if'n there's anyone around our height t' dance with."

Dwalin let out a sarcastic laugh. "Oh, aye, in a city o' tall, northern men, yeh'll certainly be able t' find some short lasses!" He took a drink from his beer.

Bofur grinned mischievously. "I never said it had t' be a lass! I may want t' dance with Ori!" he teased. He started to laugh heartily as Dwalin tensed and threw a bone-chilling glare at him. "Calm down, lad!" he cackled. "Ya know I'm not into the lads an' I know full well you've claimed Ori as your own."

For the first time ever, he saw Dwalin blush. The warrior glanced away, trying to hide behind his beer. "An' just what makes yeh think that I've got a claim t' Ori?"

He leaned back, crossing his legs. "Well, for one…you smile a lot more when he's around –That's not a bad thing, either," he quickly added, seeing the frown coming to his face. "Another way is the fact that you two seem t' go off at odd times, but always return together."

Dwalin let out a curse. "How can yeh tell from that!?"

His brow rose knowingly. "Dwalin, I was engaged once. I know full well tha' couples try t' sneak off for a wee bit o' alone time an' private snuggles," he told him.

He glanced at Bofur; this was news to his torn ears. "Yeh were engaged?"

"A long while ago, but now isn't the time for tha' story." He emptied his mug into his mouth before setting it down and standing. The song was ending. "However, now's the time for us both t' go out an' dance. Look –Ori's free." He nodded towards the young dwarf. "An' Nori's not in sight, so you may be in luck." He gave a teasing wink to Dwalin before going off to find someone to dance with.

 

Rán leaned back against the bar, his elbow resting behind him. His companions were having the time of their lives, dancing around with the men and women of Dale. Taking a drink from his wine chalice, he chuckled as he watched Garussian, the group's best archer, trip over his own feet as he danced with the young maid, Wenna. She giggled and continued to let him attempt to lead her around the dance floor.

He was a good archer, but a horrid dancer.

Ashailyn walked over to him, which surprised him.

"I thought you were dancing?" he asked, speaking in their native tongue.

"I was," she replied with a shrug, "but these dances are too foreign for me. I'd rather listen to their music."

Nodding in understanding, he offered her a drink of his wine; she gladly took it. "I quite like this place," he commented after some minutes.

She nodded and handed the cup back. "As do I. The weather is favorable and the people much nicer than our home. It's a shame we'll be leaving soon."

He shrugged. "You could stay if you wish. I've noticed how much you've grown to enjoy this place."

Ashailyn sighed and hopped up, sitting on the bar. "It's so green here…and we're not getting orders constantly barked at us from the Chief. We're allowed to be people for once, instead of cattle." She looked down as Rán set his hand on her thigh.

"Do you want to stay here?" he asked, looking her in the eye. "I could tell the Chief that you had an injury and could no longer travel or that you-" He fell quiet as she placed a finger on his lips.

"We both know that Nakara would rat us out," she stated. "That's why the Chief sent him, isn't it? To keep an eye on us and make sure we did nothing out of line."

Rán let out a defeated sigh. "Ashailyn, I know you hate this life we lead. I just…I just want you to be happy. You're the only family I have left and I don't want to lose you to unhappiness."

She let out a quiet laugh. "The life of a ranger may not be a pleasant one, Rán, but you're forgetting that you're my only family as well. We've only got two years left –I think we can handle that much service, don't you?" She smiled at him before letting her gaze return to the dance floor. "Anyway, it wouldn't be fair of me to stay here while you leave."

"Why is that?" His brow rose as he finished his wine.

"Because it would mean that I'd be the one close to Baylee and not you." A mischievous smirk came to her lips and she braced herself as her brother gave her a small shove. "What? You know I'm into lads –anyway, I'm not a fan of her teeth. They make her seem…squirrely." She got shoved again and saw a dark look on Rán's features. "What? She's got cuteness about her, but not too much beauty."

He rolled his eyes and set his chalice down. "She's certainly far better looking than that stable-hand you tried to seduce the other day," he grumbled, starting to walk off.

"Where are you going?" Ashailyn frowned. "I didn't mean to offend you!"

"I'm going to find her and dance!" Walking into the crowd, he found this to be a rather difficult task. Everyone was taller than him, save for the dwarves. He walked about on his tiptoes, trying to peer over shoulders and around heads, but it was proving to be useless. 'I wonder if she feels this small every day?' he thought, stepping out of the crowd on the far side of the room. He blinked, seeing Baylee sitting in front of him as she talked to her father. They had opened the window they were sitting near, allowing for a cool draft to enter the quickly-warming inn.

He would make this a bit of a difficult task. Warren was the largest man Rán had ever seen and, even when he smiled, he was intimidating. And here was Rán, about to ask his daughter to dance with him.

And it was Warren who first spotted the ranger.

"Ah, good evenin', Rán," Warren quipped. Rán had always found it amusing that he and his family took the time to remember the names of their patrons; it was also a bit comforting to know they cared so much about making people feel welcomed. "Enjoyin' the sudden party?"

A friendly smile came to his lips, despite his nervousness. "I am," he replied, "as are my companions." He motioned behind him towards the crowd before turning slightly to Baylee. "I was wondering if Miss Baylee would care to dance?"

He could see Warren's brow rising, though it was not in distaste. The older man wore a small grin as Baylee stood. "A dance sounds good," she smiled, not noticing the look her father gave her as Rán led her off.

"Do these sorts of occasions happen often?" Rán asked as the music started. It was a slower song than the rest, though the dance was still a somewhat lively one.

She shook her head, chuckling. "Not terribly often," she explained. She could see that he was glancing around, watching the men around them to see how he should step. "Though, they do happen more durin' the summer when everyone's feelin' giddy because o' the sun."

He smiled handsomely as he twirled her first away from him, and then towards him. "And I suppose those times, the inn is left overflowing as well?"

Baylee laughed. "Actually, those times, all the inns are overflowin' and the streets are filled with musicians an' dancers an' even lots o' food. They're quite fun, though you're left worn out the next mornin' an' there's a whole room o' people needin' t' be served."

"I would imagine!" he laughed. They swung one another side-to-side before locking arms and hopping three times to the left, then four times to the right. "I must say, I do prefer northern dances to the ones we have back home."

"Oh?"

"They are slower; I can actually keep up!"

She laughed again as they spun in a circle, their arms still locked. Then, to Rán's disappointment, he found himself holding the arm of a new partner, Baylee lost to the crowd behind him.

"Evenin', Baylee!" Bofur chirped as he found himself holding onto her arm.

She was a bit thankful that her cheeks were already flushed from the warmth of the room as she saw him. "Hello, Bofur," she smiled. "Havin' yourself a bit o' fun, I see."

"As are you –which is a nice change from the bored look ya were wearin' earlier!" He stood on his tiptoes as he twirled her around him. "Nori was bettin' on you fallin' asleep durin' tha' meeting tha' was goin' on!" He didn't notice or care when his hat got knocked askew by his arm.

Her blush got a little deeper. "An' here I thought ya lads were havin' too much fun throwin' food an' plates at one another t' even glance over at us borin' folk!"

He shrugged slightly. "Bifur 'n me were thinkin' about seein' if anyone would notice us draggin' your chair away with you on it t' rescue you."

"Aw, how thoughtful o' you two!" she giggled as they swung each other and lightly kicked outwards.

Bofur playfully winked. "What're heroes for if not for rescuin' damsels in distress?"

She giggled again. "How's the shop comin' along, by the way? I know I stopped by earlier, but I'm sure more work got done on it since then."

His eyes widened and his grin got larger –how that was possible, Baylee would never know. "We'll be openin' the day after tomorrow!" he told her. "Ori's almost done paintin' an' then we just need t' stock the shelves; neither should take very long."

"Ooh, I can't wait t' see it all full an' bustlin' with people!" she rejoiced. She let out a surprised squeak as Bofur suddenly picked her up by the waist and spun them around before setting her down. It earned a few amused glanced from the dancers around them as the song ended.

He grinned apologetically. "Sorry; I guess us dwarrows like t' end with a bit more flair than humans."

She shyly smiled and glanced away. "It's alright," she breathlessly told him; holding a conversation –two, rather- while dancing was never a good idea if you didn't want to be winded afterwards. "I think it's a better ending than the human dance. Less borin'."

"Aye. Always nice t' add a lil' spice t' an otherwise calm dance," he chuckled. He led her over to the bench where Dwalin had been sitting, though he had left and Nori had taken up the spot instead. He gave Baylee a small nod before drinking some of his mead.

"So, Ori's goin' with you lot down to Lake Town," he stated as she sat down. Bofur went off to get her a mug of ale. "Strange seein' him becoming so independent o' Dori."

Baylee gave him a reassuring smile. "Everyone's got t' grow up sometime, I guess," she offered. "Ori just chose now, it seems." Something in the corner of her eye caught her attention; it was Dwalin and Ori. They were sneaking out of the dancing crowd, the younger leading Dwalin towards the door. Her brow rose as she saw the flirtatious grin that he wore as he glanced back at Dwalin. 'I…would not have guessed that,' she thought, finding herself rather surprised. 'Kind of adorable, though…'

Nori hadn't seemed to notice; did he know…? "Can I ask a favor o' you, Baylee?" he suddenly asked.

She nodded slowly; he looked concerned. "Anythin'."

"Ori's still a youngin' for a dwarrow," he told her, "only about a lad in his late teens for you humans. This will be his first time away from his entire family an' any other dwarrows. He doesn't know the world too well, even after being a part of Thorin's Company –that much you can blame on Dori and his overbearing motherliness."

He paused a moment, shifting uncomfortably. She knew well enough by now that Nori was not the sort to really ask favors of people, let alone favors regarding his brothers. From things she had been told and overheard, she had figured out that he was the sort of dwarf who had ran away from home as soon as he was able and normally shunned any assistance offered to him. "So…I was wondering…that is, if you want to or were able…could you…maybe watch after him and make sure he does alright?" he finally asked. He seemed embarrassed to ask.

"O' course I will," she responded gently. Nori glanced at her, finding a reassuring smile on her lips. "I'll watch over him as best I can. I can't guarantee that we'll always be near each other, but I'll try t' keep one eye on him at all times."

Nori nodded slowly and smiled in relief, his body relaxing. He hadn't even realized he had been tensed. "Thank you."

"It's no trouble." She looked up as Bofur returned, two full mugs in hand.

"I don't remember which one is the beer an' which one is the ale," he admitted, looking between the mugs. "I just know that both are good!"

Using her finger, Baylee swept up a bit of the foam from the side of one of the mugs. Tasting it, she pointed at the mug. "That one's beer," she told him.

"Then this one," he crossed his arms, offering her the other mug, "is yours." As she took it, he sat down on the other side of her and drank from his beer. "Ahh…good strong lager on a night like this…Almost would think I'm back home in Erebor."

Nori snickered. "Except everyone's taller 'n you."

"Ori isn't."

"Except Ori."

"Hey! Baylee's got a mustache!"

She blinked, looking up with wide eyes. It took her a moment to realize he was talking about the white foam resting under her nose from when she drank her ale. "Aye, an' it's a mighty tasty one, too," she joked before licking it away. What she didn't know was that a bit of the foam had gotten on her nose as well.

Bofur reached over and used his thumb to wipe it away. "There you go. Don't need you havin' a foamy nose," he smiled.

Again, she was thankful for her already-flushed cheeks. "Thank ya," she shyly smiled. She tried to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear, but through all the dancing, it had become almost painfully ensnared by her ear cuff. "Confounded cuff…" she mumbled, setting her mug down and beginning the fight to untangle the locks.

"Would ya like some help, lass?" Bofur questioned. He could tell that she didn't want to remove the cuff –why, he didn't know- which left her unable to see where all the hair was caught.

"Yes, please," she winced, accidentally tugging a bit too hard on some finer hairs.

Setting aside his own mug, Bofur scooted closer to her and began helping her unravel her hair. "It's caught in all the leaves," he told her, "an' 'round the vine a bit."

She chuckled. "Aye…if the darned thing weren't so pretty an' useful, I'd wear somethin' much simpler."

Nori raised his brow as he glanced at her. "How is it useful?" he inquired curiously.

Biting her tongue, she glanced away. "I've…got part o' my ear missin' thanks t' the War."

He winced slightly. "I'm sorry; I probably shouldn't have asked."

"Curiosity gets the better o' us sometimes," she reassured him.

"There we go," Bofur suddenly chirped. It seemed that he was too busy fiddling with her hair to pay attention to her words. He clambered over the bench and stood behind Baylee, starting to comb his fingers through her hair. His cheeks were deep red and only got darker as he saw Nori grinning at him. "Let's get all this out o' the way so ya won't have t' worry about it gettin' caught again."

"Thank you," she smiled. She sat still, feeling his fingers make quick, but gentle, work of straightening out her locks. He started to separate them out and she wondered just how many braids he planned to put in her hair.

Nori leaned back, one hand resting on his thigh, the other keeping a protective hold on his beer. He kept his brow cocked as he watched Bofur braid Baylee's hair. Half of him wanted to tell Baylee that this was how dwarves flirted with one another; after all, she already knew that someone in their group fancied her. The other half argued that it was Bofur's job to tell the lass about his feelings –though that same half also believed that Bofur didn't quite realize that he fancied her just yet.

'Then again,' he thought, sneaking half of Bofur's beer into his own mug, 'what do I know about love? I'm an expert on lust…' He suddenly realized that his eyes were drifted over the crowded room, spotting the most attractive women in there and wondering if they had husbands somewhere nearby. He scolded himself. 'No. You're on your good behavior when around Ori. You don't want to disappoint him any more than you already have.'

Baylee barely noticed when Nori excused himself. The mixture of quiet music –the musicians were letting the dancers rest by playing some old ballads- and Bofur's constant, but gentle, combing of her hair was working to lull her into a trance-like state. She closed her eyes and unconsciously leaned back slightly, feeling her shoulders rest against the dwarf's chest.

When she leaned back, he had just finished the last braid in her hair. He looked down, a little startled by the action. For some reason, though, he did not try to push her up or give her a shake. Instead, he unconsciously shifted so she would not have to lean so far back. Closing his own eyes, he remembered how he had often stood just like this so his late fiancée could rest herself after a long day of being huddled over her embroidery work in the dressmaker's shop she worked at…

He was just barely able to keep himself from wrapping his arms around her, mentally scolding himself. 'She's not Leticia,' he scolded, 'so don't you even try, Bofur. Leticia's long gone and you've moved on from that part of your life.'

"You're a humble toymaker now," he mumbled under his breath. "Let go of the past." It was a mantra he had told himself many times over the years since Leticia's passing. At times, he was even able to convince himself that he had let go of the past. But times like this…He shook his head before lightly shaking her shoulder. "Baylee? Are ya awake, lass?"

She turned a bit, but did not open her eyes or say anything. He felt his cheeks darken as he looked around, trying to spot someone familiar that could fetch Will or Warren for him. Rubbing the back of his neck, he let out a small, though amused, sigh.

"Well…I guess I'll have t' be a hero again an' watch over you," he murmured, gently moving her so that she was lying down on the bench. He sat down on the end and lifted her head so that she could use his leg as a pillow. There he waited, slowly sipping his beer (he couldn't figure out why it was almost gone already), and watched over her until someone could take her to her room.


	11. Chapter 11

"I honestly have no idea what t' get Baylee for our birthday. I mean, we'll be turnin' twenty-four. What does a twenty-four year old woman want for her birthday?"

"Well, I know when I was tha' age, I was rather fond o' pretty dresses an' shiny trinkets."

Will grinned as he tilted his head back, looking up at Adela. "You still are," he told her.

She smiled tenderly, running her fingers along his scarred cheek. "Most women are, silly," she told him, her other hand brushing some of his blonde hair from his face. "A word of caution, however: A new dress probably wouldn't be the most ideal gift. Speakin' from experience, dresses get ruined mighty fast when ya work in an inn."

"So then jewelry would be best?"

"Leave jewelry for her future lover t' get her." A quiet laugh left her mouth. "You're her twin, sweetheart," she told him. "You, above anyone else, know 'er best. It shouldn't be this hard for ya t' think of something."

"Yeah…but…" He closed his eyes and let out a sigh. "I've been gone so much the last two years, we've grown a bit apart. When I came back this last time…that's when I realized she's actually an adult and not just a child anymore."

She gave him a pitying smile. "Sweetheart, she's your older sister. How can ya not think o' her as an adult?"

Cracking open an eye, he softly chuckled. "Have you seen how small she is, Adela?" he laughed. "She's dwarf-sized."

"Oh, she is not!" she giggled.

"She's barely two inches taller than one o' the dwarves stayin' at our inn!" He shook his head, still grinning. "Anyway. The only thing I really know 'bout her anymore is that she loves the color yellow an' that she loves t' make people happy."

Adela nodded in understanding. "An' she has a fondness for sunflowers an' cows."

Will snorted. "I should find a cow, paint it yellow, and make it a crown o' sunflowers. It'd be the perfect gift for her an' Galiene. We'd always have fresh milk an' Baylee would get a pet."

She cracked up, leaning back against the wall. "Somehow, I don't think your da' would agree t' that." As Will continued to cheekily grin at her, she cocked her brow and plopped some blades of grass on his face. "So, what do you want for ya birthday?"

He sat up, brushing the grass from his face. Leaning over, he rubbed his nose against her cheek. "I'll be content if I can steal a few hours t' be with you," he murmured, kissing her cheek.

Her brow rose and she smirked, lightly shoving him away. "You do that all the time," she joked, moving to stand up. "What d'ya really want?" Brushing off her skirt, she watched as small blades of grass fell to the ground.

Will rested his shoulder against the wall, watching as she went over to the dried up fountain that stood in the middle of what had once been a noble's yard. It was their favorite spot to escape to; their fathers would never think to seek them out there and if ever they did, there were plenty of trees for them to hide in. An added bonus was that the trees would be full of fruit come harvest time.

Adela had started to hum and dance, her hair and hips swaying to unheard music. "You know…" he mumbled, transfixed by the movement of her body and the sound of her voice, "the only thing I really want is for our dad's t' not hate each other so we don't have t' hide."

She glanced over her shoulder at him. "That'll be a miracle," she replied sarcastically. "They've hated each other since their younger years."

Standing, he went over and caught her just as she hopped off of the edge of the fountain. He wore a proud grin as he held her against him, spinning them in a small circle. Adela let out a surprised giggle and wrapped her arms around his neck, nuzzling him affectionately. Setting her on the ground, Will kissed her shoulder and buried his face in her neck.

"How did I managed t' snare a wonderful bloke like you?" she murmured.

"Your cookin' helped," he murmured teasingly. "Though, I should be the one wonderin' how I managed t' get you since I seem t' scare everyone else."

She frowned and leaned back, looking him in the eye. "William Braddock, don't you ever let me hear ya say tha' again!" she scolded. "Just because you've got those scars don't mean that you scare folk!" She gently ran her hand along the scarred flesh.

"Ya got these scars fightin' t' defend our people an' if anyone is afraid o' them an' the way they make you look…why…Irmo haunt their dreams for their stupidity!" Her cheeks had become flushed with anger and her lips were pursed in a pout; Will didn't have the heart to tell her that she looked more adorable than threatening. Standing on her tiptoes, she kissed the tip of his nose. "Personally, I think they make ya look like the most handsome man in Middle Earth."

Giving her forehead a peck, he held her close to his form. "Love you too, Adela," he chuckled.

She kissed the tip of his nose. "Now answer me: What do ya want for your birthday?"

Shaking his head, he quietly laughed; he knew she would not give up until he had told her something. "How 'bout one of your cakes? I know it'll be too early yet for raspberries, so…just any sort o' cake. I can share it with Baylee an' dad will never know."

Adela smiled and crossed her arms proudly. "Now there's somethin' I can make happen. I'll see what I can do. Can't guarantee your sister will get any if you see it first, though. I know how much ya like cake." She grinned teasingly, ducking out of the way as he tried to grab her for a hug.

"Maybe if you became a baker, dad wouldn't mind 'us' so much," he grinned, chasing after her. "He's mostly against the fact that your dad has an inn, too."

She playfully tapped her chin, though Will could tell she was seriously contemplating his words. "I do enjoy bakin'," she murmured. "It's a thought." She twirled her skirts, managing to hit her lad in the face with them as she turned away, once more evading capture. "But for now, I'm more inclined t' just make cakes for you."

He grinned, ducking into the shadows of a building; the moon was only a sliver in the sky, leaving him with plenty of cover. "Or we could run off to Lake Town and live happily ever after." His voice drifted around the yard and he watched as Adela spun around, trying to find him.

"Very funny, William," she chuckled, trying to spot him. Even with squinting, however, she couldn't spot him. Will may have been huge and light-haired, but after having spent years as part of Lake Town's guard and army, he knew how to hide himself well. "Now why don't ya come out o' those shadows and give me a kiss?"

Strong arms suddenly embraced her from behind and she let out an amused laugh as Will teasingly kissed up her neck. "It's what you get for smackin' me with your pretty blue dress!" he grinned, nuzzling her.

"William Braddock, you are a pain in the arse!" she giggled, cheeks red.

"Strange…normally I'm called an arsemunch."

Her brow rose. "No, I assure ya –you're just an arse." A cheeky grin came to her lips and she stood on tiptoe, craning her head back to kiss his cheek. "But, you're mine so it makes things a wee bit better."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Bifur stood on his tiptoes, carefully arranging a set of mechanical birds on a shelf. He had spent months perfecting these little winged toys, getting them so that their wing moments perfectly imitated the movements of real birds. It had helped that, during his time as part of Thorin's Company, they had flown atop giant eagles so he was able to get a close-up of the movements. Translating those movements into small, wood-and-metal figurines had been no easy feat, however.

But to see his hard work being arranged on a shelf in a shop due to open the next day filled him with pride. He spent nearly a quarter of an hour trying to come up with the best way for the birds to be arranged, from simply going from smallest bird to largest, or staggering them so that a large bird rested between two smaller ones. Eventually, he had decided that the largest of the toys would sit in the middle of the shelf, with those being on the outside the smallest.

Stepping back, he put his hands on his hips and admired his arrangement. They sat on the topmost shelf, with only the painted blue sky behind them. From his vantage point, the birds looked as if they were soaring. He knew that the children of Dale who were shorter than him would think so as well.

Bofur came into the room, carrying a small chest. He glanced over at his cousin, his brow rising. He was about to ask what he was looking at when he spotted the birds on the top shelf. Both brows now rose and he grinned. "That looks mighty nice there, Bifur," he told him, speaking in Khuzdul. It was just him and Bifur in the shop so far that morning. "I'm sure they'll be some o' the first things to be sold."

Bifur glanced over his shoulder at the younger dwarf. "You think so?" he asked, sounding a little unsure.

He nodded, moving to stand alongside his cousin. "Oh, aye, I'm certain. I mean, once the wee ones see how lifelike the birdies are when ya crank the wheel –oh, they'll be wantin' 'em by the dozen, for sure. An' remember –you've already sold one off to that lil' old man at the Tankard this morning."

Looking down at his feet, Bifur smiled fondly. "That is true. And it wasn't even for a child; the man was just so amused by the toy…" He felt Bofur pat him on the back.

"We'll do just fine –your toys 'n mine will sell quite nicely here. An', as Dale expands, we'll get more an' more children t' make toys for. We may even have t' hire our nephews t' help make toys."

At that, Bifur laughed. "I think you know as well as I that Bombur hasn't taught any of those lads a thing about toy making. If anything, we'll have to make William our apprentice."

"Which isn't a bad thing. The lad's a fast learner, and he's a gentle soul. The children seem far less scared o' him than the adults…"

"Don't know why anyone scared of him, to be honest," Bifur commented, moving to open the chest Bofur had brought in. "They're just scars. No one's afraid of the axe sticking out of my head, so why should they be scared of young William?"

Shrugging, Bofur also went over to the chest, pulling out a few rolls of fine, shiny cloth and some small bundles of wooden dowels. "Humans are odd folk like that. They're willing to fight to the death against orcs, but they get scared o' a few scars?" He shook his head. "Meanwhile, t' us dwarrows, scars are a sign o' battle prowess."

"Or sheer stupidity," Bifur added. "Remember when young Jurik splashed molten gold all over his arm?"

The two dwarves shook their heads, sighing at the memory. In the end, Jurik had had his arm amputated due to the severity of the burns -all because he had ran across a forge while holding a bowl of molten gold. It was his price to pay for ignoring one of the most important rules of the forge: Never, ever run –always walk with caution.

"That is one mistake he'll never forget again, that's for sure," Bofur murmured, unfurling one of the rolls of cloth on the floor. As it stretched out, Bifur could see that it was actually a kite in the shape of a silvery fish with long whiskers coming out of its face. Bofur made quick work of inserting the dowels into various places on the cloth before carefully setting it aside. "Do you remember when Will said he'd show up today?" he asked, flicking out the second roll. This time, the kite was shaped like butterfly.

"Sometime after lunch," Bifur replied. "He was going to see about getting a real spear for Baylee and possibly sharpen some of his chisels." He knew full well that Will's tools had been greatly dulled by all the work he had done for the two dwarves, but they were going to pay him handsomely in return. "Have you noticed that he looks a bit tired lately, by the way?"

Bofur looked up, grinning. "Didn't you see him dancin' with that lass the other night?" Bifur shook his head. "He's got himself a lady-friend. No doubt he sneaks out at night t' see her; Warren didn't look too impressed, though. He kept giving the woman dark looks."

"Maybe he just doesn't like the idea of his only son fancying someone?" Bifur chuckled. "Baylee disappeared that night, though…Do you know what happened to her?"

His cheeks turning pink, Bofur looked down at the kite again. "She, er, fell asleep."

Bifur's brow rose. "Fell asleep? With such a din like that being made?"

"It was durin' a ballad. I guess she had had such a long day, she just sort o'…fell asleep while I braided her hair." He kept his back to his cousin as he started to assemble a third kite, a bird.

Crossing his arms, Bifur grinned proudly. "Braidin' her hair, were you?" he asked, his voice teasing. "You best be lucky that Will and Warren don't seem to know what that means to us dwarrows."

"Neither of them was around," he retorted, his cheeks burning, "and I wasn't flirtin'! It kept gettin' stuck in her ear cuff, so I offered to braid it for her. It was nothin' more than polite concern. Just ask Nori; he was there."

"Nori's convinced that you fancy Baylee, so I'm sure he'll say that you were, in fact, flirting."

Bofur stood up in a bit of a huff, going over to the chest. "I don't fancy Baylee. She's a sweet girl and helpful t' boot, but I don't fancy her! An' even if I did, nothin' would come of it. She's more than likely got a flock of young human men chasin' after her. Where did those rolls of kite string go?" He frowned, searching through the chest but not finding the spools he was looking for.

Bifur cocked his brow, amused as he remembered how his cousin had acted about his first love in his youth –very much in the same manner. He wasn't angry –Bofur very rarely got angry- but rather…defiantly embarrassed. Some people would confuse it for anger, but those same people simply didn't know Bofur. "They should have been in that chest, cousin. That's where we always put the string."

"Well, they're not in there."

"Then you'll just have to go buy some, won't you?" His tone betrayed his amusement and he ignored the small scowl Bofur gave him. Bofur wasn't able to scowl very well; it was as if Aulë had designed his face specifically for smiling. Any other dwarf could scowl perfectly well, but Bofur's attempt made it seem more as if he was suffering from a painful bowl movement.

Putting the kites atop the counter, Bofur brushed his knees off. "I'll be back then," he stiffly told his cousin. Walking out the front door, his mood was almost instantly changed. The day was a warm, sunny one with not a cloud in sight. It seemed as if all the flowers in Dale had chosen today to be the day that they burst into life, filling the streets with bursts of violet, red, yellow, and blue. Children ran around, laughing as they chased pets and each other. In the distance, he could see crudely made kites being flown over the city's walls.

He had wandered quite far from the shop when he came to realize something: He had no idea where he could find string for kites. Wood, metal, and bricks –he knew where to find those, but string? Bofur supposed he would find that with the same shops that sold cloth.

But where in Middle Earth were they?

Scratching the back of his neck, he looked around. At the moment, he was nearing the blacksmithing district; he could smell hints of sulfur and smoke in the air. Two streets down, he would be in the wood working district. His brows furrowed and he scratched his chin. The left side of the street seemed to be dedicated to the more masculine guilds and shops…Would the right side be full of things for females and clothes?

It was worth a chance.

Turning right, he headed down a street. He was more than a little surprised to see himself surrounded by various bakeries and butcher shops. The smells in the air were delightful and his stomach growled in protest to him not stopping to fill it.

"You'll get food soon enough, Bofur," he quietly scolded himself. "First an' foremost, you need t' get that string." He continued on his way, turning round into another street. This one was vastly less populated, without a few people here and there; walking through it, he came to realize it was in the shoemakers' district again. "Wrong again," he mumbled. He was beginning to wish that Dale was more like Erebor –where large signs advertised what was sold down each road.

"Bofur?"

He blinked and spun around only to see Baylee and Will walking towards him. He grinned, giving them a small wave. "Hello, you two."

"Lookin' for a new pair of boots, are you?" Will chuckled.

He shook his head. "No, no…I'm tryin' to find a place where I could buy some string. Bifur 'n me want t' hang some kites from the ceilin', but we can't do that without string…or you, actually." He grinned cheekily before noticing the tall spear that Baylee was holding. It was as tall as Will. "Huh…Now that's a spear," he thought aloud. "Nearly twice your height there, lass."

She laughed, her cheeks turning a bit pink. "It is not! Maybe twice your height, but not mine."

Bofur stood on his tiptoes, effectively making him as tall as the human. "You were sayin', lass?" he teased.

Giggling, she poked his nose, sending him back onto his heels. "Nice try, lad."

Will snorted. "Let her have a little glory," he told Bofur. "She's never been taller than someone who isn't a child. Ow!" He laughed as Baylee smacked his shin with the butt of the spear.

Hooking his thumb in his belt, Bofur chuckled. "Ah, it's alright. So…Do either o' you know where I could find some string?"

Baylee nodded. "I'll take ya t' the better shop," she told him. "Will needs t' get home an' change his clothes so he can get them in the wash before papa skins him alive." She looked mildly amused as she glanced at her brother.

"Why? What happened?" the dwarf inquired, his brows furrowing. They rose in amusement as Will turned around, showing him that, from bum to shoulders, Will was covered entirely by red paint. "Ha! How'd ya manage that, lad?" he laughed, lightly smacking his leg.

Will's cheeks flushed the same shade of red. "Well, er…"

"He snuck off for a few minutes with his lady friend while we were supposed t' be lookin' for spears," Baylee tattled. "Neither knew that her father just had the outside o' their inn painted." She glanced up –way up- at her brother, a mixture of amusement and disappointment on her features. "If papa asks, though, I shoved him an' he fell against the inn."

"Ahh, I see," he mused, nodding his head in understanding. "Well lad, you best do as your sister says –dry paint is hard t' get out of clothes; even harder than blood sometimes. I'll see you at the shop later though, right?"

"Aye, you will," Will grinned. "Otherwise you'd never get those kites in time t' open tomorrow." He gave them a wave and started to walk off.

"You're openin' tomorrow?" Baylee chirped, her eyes widening happily. She started to lead Bofur back up the street.

He nodded again. "Aye, we are. Bifur 'n me are setting up the shelves with toys today an' gettin' everything all nice lookin' while Ori makes us a bit o' a sign to let people know we're openin'." As they turned down a street, he blinked. This street was shaded by the sun by lengths of colorful fabric, but thanks to the bright green and yellow fabric, it was still plenty bright. "Weavers or seamstresses?" he asked.

"Both," she told him, "though if Dale were t' get any larger, I think this will become the weavers territory. The shops are large enough for their looms an' those who use the fabric they make don't like arguin' with them, lest they get the less quality stuff."

He nodded. "That's understandable."

"It's actually a bit funny ya needed some string; I was on my way here t' pick up my new cloak an' trousers," she told him. She didn't care that she was earning odd looks from some of the passersby; it was because she held the spear. If she had been a man, they wouldn't have cared. "Rather sure Eidel will have somethin' that'll work for you."

Pushing open the door to a building, they were greeted by the scent of lavender incense. The room they stepped into was brightly lit by a window in the ceiling that illuminated all sorts of looms and spinning wheels. Bofur recalled seeing these same sort of machines in his youth when his mother had taken him to her job once or twice. He had proven to be too mischievous for her to handle around the looms, so he hadn't been back since he had gotten his hair caught in a spinning wheel.

"Ah, Baylee…what can I do for ya today, lass?" The woman seemingly came from nowhere, her silver hair flowing behind her; it was nearly down to her hips. Bofur saw that she was like a young willow tree –tall and thin. Her blue eyes focused on the dwarf and her smile took on a flirtatious look. "Or is Master Dwarf in need of assistance?" she asked.

A shiver ran down Bofur's neck. The woman's voice was as smooth as silk. "I, ah…I was wonderin' if you had any kite string?"

She tapped her chin with a long finger; she reminded Baylee and Bofur of a spider. "I think I may have something tha' would work," she told him. "Let me check in the back." Still wearing the smile, she spun around, her skirts twirling around her ankles, and walked into the back room.

Bofur glanced up at Baylee, watching as she ran her fingers over a tapestry that hung from the wall; it was a thick, white cloth heavily embroidered with intricate, circling knots. Most of the knots were done in black, but the smaller, thinner lines were done in purple thread.

"I wish I could do work like this," she murmured, eyes taking in every detail.

His head cocked to the side. "Why can't you?"

"Never learned. Mum tried to teach me once, when I was but ten. Said I didn't really have the hands for it an' took me out into the inn an' had me helpin' papa 'n Will instead." She gave him a small smile. "Guess I've more o' a knack for rememberin' food orders."

"I'm sure you could do it if ya put your mind to it," he smiled. His attention was drawn away as Eidel returned, holding a few spools of twine in her hands.

"It's been awhile since I've flown a kite," she told him, setting the spools down, "but from what I remember, these three would be the best strings for it. This one-" She held up a spool that even Baylee could tell was made from cotton, "-is simple cotton. Strong, durable, but a bit on the heavy side. Good for just 'bout anything. This one," she set it down and lifted a second spool, "is silk thread. A bit on the pricey side, but it's light, strong, an' downright pretty."

He nodded in understanding as he listened to her. "The silk's a bit too thin an' slippery t' use, I'm afraid," he told her, "An' it may hurt the fingers o' the children when they try t' reel their kites back in."

Baylee continued to look at the tapestries that hung along the walls, though she smiled as she heard him. 'Most folk wouldn't think about fingers getting hurt by kite string,' she thought.

"Then this one may be the one," Eidel told him, plucking up the third spool. "It's a string made of cotton an' silk. It's light, strong, an' durable. Not as slippery as silk an' it doesn't swell as bad as cotton when it gets wet."

Again, Bofur nodded. As Eidel unwound a length of the twine, he took it in his fingers, testing it. It certainly was strong and he was positive that it wouldn't hurt children's fingers as much as the silk string. "How many spools o' this do ya have, miss?"

"Oh, a couple dozen, I suppose. I don't use this very often anymore; not since we first came t' live here."

"What did ya use it for?" he asked, unable to stop himself.

She wound the string back up. "Oh, loads of things…sewing canvas together for tents, sewin' cloth into armor, makin' flags –those sorts o' things. Why, Baylee here once had an over-gown that was laced with some of this same stuff."

Baylee flushed. "That…was a long while ago," she shyly chuckled.

"Ah, but it looked quite lovely on you. That creamy yellow looked so nice with your skin and hair…" She shook her head with a quiet sigh and a small smile. "But, never mind that now. How many spools would ya like, Master Dwarf?"

He thought about the number of kites back at the shop. If he had forgotten to pack the spools they already had, he would need as many as he could get his hands on…then again, if he had only misplaced them, he would have too much. 'Better too much than too little,' he thought. "A dozen an' a half should be good," he told Eidel, wearing a small smile.

She nodded. "Give me just a moment to gather them up. It'll be twenty silver for the lot, by the way." As she once more disappeared into the back room, Bofur started to fish through his coin purse.

"Hm…" he murmured after a moment.

"What's wrong?" Baylee asked, glancing over her shoulder. She had left the white tapestry and was now across the room, looking at one that depicted a scene of a king being crowned with stars. She recalled a story about a king in the realm of Gondor being crowned in such fashion in the days of old…

Bofur's voice brought her out of her thoughts. "I only have eighteen silver," he frowned. "Think she'll have change for a—" He was cut off as Baylee walked over, plopping two silver coins into his palm. Looking up at her with reddening cheeks, he started to protest. "Baylee, you don't have-"

"It's nothin'," she smiled. Before he could further argue, Eidel returned with a sack of the spools.

Exchanging the coins for the spools, Bofur thanked Eidel before he and Baylee left the shop. His cheeks were still red as he glanced up at the human, who was starting to walks further down the street. "Baylee?" He kept pace with her; an easy feat since she was so small.

"Hm?" she asked, glancing down at him.

"You…ah, really didn't have t' do that back there," he stated, his cheeks still red. "I'm sure she would'a had change."

She shrugged. "Let's just call it my good deed for the day," she chuckled. Making sure there were no carts rolling by, she started to cross the street, heading for a rather high-end looking seamstress's shop. "Would ya mind holdin' my spear while I go in here? Weapons aren't allowed."

He nodded, taking the spear and leaning against the wall of the shop. As she disappeared inside the building, he let out a quiet sigh. 'She seems rather distracted today,' he thought. 'Seems happy enough, but her eyes don't quite look happy.' His brow rose and he shook his head. 'Maybe she's just having an off day,' he told himself.

Turning his attention, to the street, he surveyed the people that walked by only to find the crowds to be mostly made up of women and their children. Some younger women –they were about Baylee's age- were sitting around a large, square planter filled with lavender. From the looks of it, they were idly gossiping; about what, he couldn't guess. Probably young men.

"Oi, Master Dwarf!"

Startled, Bofur glanced up as a pair of soldiers came towards him. By their rounded helmets and the veils that hung off their backs, he could tell that they were city watch. They carried spears identical to the one he was holding.

"Why have you a spear an' why are ya loiterin' outside this shop?" the taller of the two demanded. He was a sour-faced young man with a large bump on his nose; it had been broken in the past. His companion rolled his eyes.

"I'm waitin' for Miss Baylee Braddock t' come out o' the shop, lad," Bofur replied, his tone as friendly as ever. "This spear is hers; I'm holdin' it for her."

The shorter and kinder looking lad smiled. "Baylee's spear, eh?" he asked with a chuckle. "Didn't know she had exchanged bakin' bread for throwin' spears! Should we be expectin' her to join the city guard then?"

The sour man elbowed him in the ribs. "Don't be ridiculous; women can't join," he grumbled. He looked back at Bofur. "Don't go causin' any mischief," he warned before continuing on his way.

With an apologetic smile, his companion quickly told Bofur, "Sorry about his attitude. He got rejected by the lass he fancies," before running off after the other man.

"Spring is most definitely in the air then," he murmured with a chuckle. Shaking his head, he closed his eyes and breathed in deeply through his nose. In most cities, he would have smelled various unpleasant scents, but in Dale, his nose mostly picked up the scents of the blooming flowers and the bakeries one street over. He thought he could detect hints of jasmine, too, but couldn't quite be sure…

"Have a good day, Miss Nadya!"

His eyes snapped open as Baylee closed the door to the seamstress's shop. He could see that her wardrobe had changed: Her yellow over dress, brown shirt, and brown trousers had been replaced by white hose and a knee-length light green dress. Under her arm was a package wrapped up in brown paper and held shut by some butcher's twine; probably the other clothes she had bought. Her other clothes were neatly folded and tucked under the same arm.

"That looks t' be a wee bit more 'n a cloak an' some trousers, lass," he teased.

She innocently glanced away, smiling shyly. "Well…"

"Hey, look! It's Squirrel Face!"

Baylee suddenly tensed and Bofur frowned. He looked past her, seeing the group of gossiping girls. One of them, a tall young woman with honey-colored hair, was grinning as she stared at Baylee's back. She rose from her spot and started for the two of them, followed by two others girls, both having dark brown hair.

Hearing them coming, Baylee started to stiffly usher Bofur forwards, wanting to get away. "Let's go," she mumbled, taking the spear back.

"Where are you going, Squirrel Face?" the blonde called in a singsong voice. "That's a pretty dress you've got; is it t' help ya blend into your tree?"

Bofur's brows furrowed as he frowned. Glancing over his shoulder, he watched as the blonde skipped up to them, stopping the two of them in their tracks. He looked up at the woman, crossing his arms. To most people, she would have been pretty, but from his point of view, Bofur thought she looked rather like a snake with her small, thin nose.

"Look, lasses! She's finally found herself a lad," she giggled in mock sweetness. The sound hurt Bofur's ears and he shifted slightly, shielding Baylee from the woman. "An' he's even her height! Aren't they a cute couple?"

"Aren't ya a little old t' be teasin' me like this?" Baylee demanded. Bofur could hear a slight wobble to her voice; she was fighting back tears.

One of the brunettes giggled as she ignored her words, reaching out to pinch Baylee's cheek. "They'll have the tiniest, chubby-cheeked babies, that's for-Hey!"

Bofur wasn't one for using violence against females, but he was fed up with three. He shoved the woman away before she could lay her fingers on Baylee and glared up at her. "Leave us alone," he ordered, no trace of amusement on his features. They had stirred up his rarely-felt anger.

The blonde laughed. "Aw, he's protective of her!" She leaned down, smirking at him. "What're you goin' t' do? Use tha' big ol' spear against us? I wouldn't want ya t' strain something, wee master."

A mock smile came to his features. "I won't use the spear, but if the three o' ya don't apologize t' Miss Baylee, I will throw you three gutter wenches into the nearest pile o' horse shit where ya belong." He continued to wear the mock smile as he watched the three women back up in shock; no one had ever threatened them in such a fashion. "Well? Am I goin' t' have t' carry you lot t' the stables then?" he inquired when they said nothing. "I've lifted loads heavier than you three before; it'd be easy enough."

Baylee stared at him, barely hearing their quick apologies before they ran off. Swallowing hard, she let him take her hand and lead her back into the main square, where he sat her down at the fountain. It was only when he dabbed her cheeks with his handkerchief that she realized she had unconsciously let her tears spill and she curiously raised a hand, feeling her damp cheeks.

He rubbed the back of his neck, glancing at the ground in embarrassment. "I'm sorry ya had t' hear me talk like that," he told her, "but I had t' get them to shut their gobs somehow…They were makin' you cry an' that isn't the least bit polite. I don't think I would have really tossed 'em in the horse poo, though. Maybe if they had been meaner I would'a…"

She quietly laughed. "I've heard far worse leave my own mouth," she reassured him, "an' I did carry out my threats; broke one o' their fingers when I was younger. But still, thank ya." She gave him a warm smile and tucked some hair behind her ear. Her eyes were still a bit pink, but were now tear-free as she glanced at her lap, her hand fiddling with a bit of her skirt's fabric. "They're an annoyin' lot."

"Oh, aye. Cats, rats, an' snakes always are," he agreed. She looked at him quizzically and he smirked. "Haven't ya noticed? That's what they look like. Nothin' nearly as cute as wee squirrels…not tha' you look like a squirrel! Because ya don't!" He was starting to fumble over his words again. "You look like a pretty young maid. Not a squirrel. Don't know why they think ya look like one…" He glanced away shyly, cheeks burning as he rubbed the back of his neck. "You're an idiot, Bofur," he muttered under his breath.

"It's because o' my teeth."

His brows furrowed and he allowed himself to glance at her. "Your teeth? What 'bout them?" He was utterly baffled.

She rubbed her arm self-consciously. "I never really grew into my front teeth…so they're big an' make me look like a squirrel."

"I haven't ever noticed 'em," he stated matter-of-factly. "An' neither have the lads. Whoever says ya look like squirrel is just an arse."

A small smile came to her lips and she shyly looked at the ground. "Thank you."

He watched her, a tender look coming to his features. Bifur's words about Nori thinking he fancied her and how he had apparently flirted with her the night of the party echoed back into his memory and he shifted slightly. He did not fancy Miss Baylee. She may have been kind, smart, good conversation, a good cook, and rather pretty (at least to him; he didn't know that she was very plain by most everyone else's standard) but that didn't automatically mean he fancied her.

…Did it?

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Rán carefully inspected the steel blade that the smith had handed him. It was lighter than most swords its size, yet it was perfectly balanced. The gently curved blade ended at a sharp point and had just enough give in the metal to ensure that it would not break when it came in contact with another blade or some light armor. Stepping away from his companions and making absolutely sure that no one else was around him, he tested the blade by twirling it in his hand a few times. He did a few simple maneuvers with the blade, a grin coming to his lips.

Finally, he sheathed the weapon and met the gaze of the dwarf who had crafted it –and the other weapons his companions held- and gave him a sweeping bow. "Thank you, Master Skári," he said to the dwarf. "These weapons far exceed our expectations and will serve us well in protecting our people."

The dwarf scratched his chin through his thick beard, a pleased smile hiding beneath his mustache. "I am glad that they meet your standards, Ezbad Rán," he replied, also bowing. "It is not often that I get t' make such a unique set o' swords an' bows. It was a welcomed –and fun- challenge for me."

A friendly grin came to Rán's lips and he made a motion to two of his men. "I am sure you will find yourself meeting more of the same challenges in the future, Master Skári, for I will be sure to spread word of your craftsmanship amongst my people."

Girish and Aizik stepped forward, a small, but heavy, chest held between them. They knelt down, setting the chest on the ground and opening it. Polished gold coins and glittering red rubies rested within the metal-and-wood case, causing the dwarf to lean forward on the balls of his feet, his smile turning into a somewhat greedy grin.

"As we agreed," Ashailyn spoke now, "your payment for your work. We hope it pleases you."

"I assure you that no greater pleasure can come of this than what I felt crafting those weapons," Skári told them, though they all know it was a politely elegant lie. Not even the most selfless of dwarves could resist the allure of shiny gold and sparkling gemstones. "Blessings of the ancestors upon you!" he told them as he gave them another bow.

"May your beard never grow thin, Master Skári." They, too, bowed and turned, leaving the workshop. Rán led them out into the carved streets of Erebor; he was still filled with amazement about the city. It was carved entirely out of the mountain's rock and yet, such was the artistry and craftsmanship that buildings appeared to be made of stacked bricks and the streets seemed to be laid with cobblestone.

It was a vastly different sight from what they were used to. Despite the loftiness of the halls and entrance, there was no view of the sky or sun. The others didn't really like this, but it brought an odd sense of comfort to Rán. To live in a place that never had to endure the harsh rains and winds of winter or the fierce sun of summer was a wish that he hoped to someday make real. For now, though, he had his sister to think of –and his rangers.

"Now that we have our weapons," Nakara spoke when they left the dwarven city, "we can leave in the morning. The sooner we return home, the more pleased our Chief will be."

Girish rolled his eyes. "Do you ever not think about Chief and how happy he is with you?" he nagged. "You should be admiring that new sword of yours instead of pondering what in Mandos' name the Chief is going to think about us returning two days earlier than planned!" Aizik, Ashailyn, and Fifika snorted while Seth and Hunil laughed outright. The rest did their best to hide their amusement from Nakara, who looked thoroughly offended.

"Pardon me for actually caring about how our Chief views our group," he huffed. "After Donar was slain two summers ago, our Chief can't help but wonder whether we really deserve the position-"

"Of primary defense. Yes, Nakara, you've mentioned that many times before," Rán told him, rolling his eyes. "In our line of work, death is never far from us. That is why, as rangers, we pray to Estë for health and to Mandos for a quickly dealt death. It is something we cannot avoid."

Nakara narrowed his eyes as he stared down at the shorter, slightly older male. "I see you no longer cringe when his name is mentioned," he replied coolly.

Rán turned sharply, his eyes narrowed in a fierce glare. "What reason do I have to cringe at the name of a dead man?"

Nakara opened his mouth to speak, but Ashailyn shoved her way in front of him. "There will be no arguments –at least, not when we're itching to try our weapons. When we've disarmed, maybe you two can have fisticuffs somewhere, but I will not suffer it in my presence."

Glancing at the woman, Nakara stepped back, his cheeks reddening. "I apologize, Mistress Ashailyn," he murmured, his tone bearing some shame.

Rán gave his sister a thankful look. Taking her hand, he turned and continued to lead the group down the stone-covered road that led back to Dale. He glanced over his shoulder, seeing Nakara's eyes focused on his sister and he recognized the longing look of unspoken love in them.

'Why did you have to fall for my sister?' he bitterly thought. 'Of all the women in Middle Earth, you had to fall for my sister…' He shook his head, trying to push the thought from his mind, but was finding it difficult.

To his luck, Kreine started to sing. Of the members of their group, she had the fairest singing voice and she was never afraid to start singing for no reason. The song she had chosen was one that they sang back in their homeland to chase away the bitter winter winds and to welcome the coming warmth of spring. It was one of Rán's favorites, for he had a passionate hatred of winter, having lost his parents to it many years ago.  
 _  
Be gone ye fowl wolves of winter_

_Let thy teeth bite no more at my skin_

_Let thy howl whistle no more in mine ear_

_Thou hast overstayed thy welcome_

_In darkness thou hast kept me,_

_Thy anger hath kept me trapped within in my home_

_No light I hath seen, no warmth I hath felt_

_Too long in thy bitter hold I hath dwelt!_

_Dost thou heareth the trumpets?_

_Doth thou seeth the heralds_

_Who proclaims our Lady Spring is back?_

_Who bring her forth from her long slumber?_

_Lo! Bow down before her sweet form,_

_Lady Spring approaches and Old Winter flees_

_Let us rejoice at our Lady, our Queen_

_Who will again fill our world with green!_

_Let the-_

She suddenly let out a small yelp as she tripped over an uneven part of the road (it was still being worked on by the dwarves, so it was not entirely smooth just yet). Aizik caught her, offering her an apologetic smile. "I guess Lady Spring wants a nap," he gently teased, setting her upright once more.

"Very funny," she murmured, wiggling her foot slightly in an attempt to chase away the bit of pain she felt in her toes. "Thank you, though." She may have had a good voice, but sometimes, she was a bit accident prone.

He gave her a small nod before putting his hands behind his head. "So…Rán. Will we be leaving early, or are we staying the extra two days?"

Rán glanced over his shoulder. "We'll put it to a vote," he stated. "All in favor of leaving early?" He was more than a little surprised to find that only he, Ashailyn, and Girish did not raise their hands. "There is your answer. When we return to Dale, Aizik, Nakara, and Seth will be in charge of buying food for the journey while Girish and Ashailyn restock our medicinal stores. Kreine and Fifika, you two will tend to laundry. Hunil and I shall see to the horses. Understood?"

"I think I should help with the horses rather than buying food," Nakara stated.

"Nonsense. You're the best haggler in the group," he replied. "With the amount of food we'll need for the return journey, it is necessary-"

Nakara's thick brow rose. "Seth, too, is able to haggle quite well. I would merely like to see how my horse is doing since we discovered the hoof abscess a few days prior," he argued, his arms crossing over his chest.

"Fine. Hunil, you will get food with the others." Normally, he would have switched places with Nakara just so he wouldn't have to deal with him for a while, but after seeing the look he had given Ashailyn…His brotherly instincts had kicked in and were telling him to have a firm chat with the young man. "Any objections to that?"

Nakara remained silent, as did the rest.

"Good. We will return to the Tankard in time for midday. We'll discuss some plans and whether to leave before dawn or later in the day." There was a chorus of agreement and he moved to let his hand idly rest atop the hilt of his new sword.

Ashailyn leaned over. "With any luck, you'll see your Miss Baylee," she quietly teased.

His cheeks reddened. "Shush," he mumbled, glancing away.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"I really wish yeh'd take somethin' other than a slingshot with yeh, Ori. I mean, I know yeh'll be travelin' with a bunch o' soldiers, but what if yeh get separated? What use will a slingshot have for yeh?"

"It's proven to be a good distraction tool from time to time. Remember how I helped Miss Baylee when the two o' you were sparrin' the other day?" A cheeky grin came to his lips as he glanced up at Dwalin, who had climbed up in the ancient plum tree, his feet dangling on either side of a branch.

He shifted and scrunched his nose up. "It did take me by surprise, tha's for sure," he agreed. He cocked his brow, looking down at the sign that Ori was painting. The lad had a brush dipped in yellow paint and his pink held out to steady his hand as he slowly trailed it down a long, straight section of the carving. "It's lookin' good," he commented. "Yellow on green 'n yellow really pops."

"Good," he chuckled, pulling the brush away and dipping it in a bit more paint. "Bofur and Bifur wanted this sign t' be eye-catching, so I'm doin' my best."

Silence fell between them as he continued to trace carved wood in yellow paint. Dwalin closed his eyes, enjoying the peacefulness. Birds were chirping in the yard around them and the hustle-and-bustle of the market was but a murmur to their ears back here. Inside the building, they could just barely hear the sound of Bifur moving crates around as he searched for toys to fill the shelves with.

"I could loan yeh my hammer."

Ori rolled his eyes and shook his head, quietly laughing. "I'll be fine, Dwalin."

Opening an eye, he glanced down at him. "Yeh sure? I mean, yer pretty deadly with tha' thing. Makes me proud t' see yeh bashin' skulls with it."

"I'm sure, Dwalin."

"But what if-"

Setting his brush down, Ori looked up at him reassuringly. "I'm a scribe, not a warrior. As you said, there will be plenty o' armed folk with us –Baylee included."

He didn't seem convinced. "What if yeh get separated, hm? When then? Yeh goin' t' bash a skull in with tha' sketchbook o' yers?"

Laughing, Ori went back to painting. "Yes, Dwalin –I'll do exactly that or I'll kick 'em in the shins and run away."

Dwalin snorted. "The latter more 'n likely."

"Of course. Why would I want t' damage my artwork?" He heard the creak of wood as Dwalin slid out of the tree, but did not look up; he was too focused on getting this sign finished so that it could dry before Will hung it. "Do you know what time it is?" he asked.

Stretching, Dwalin looked at the sky. "Eh…I'd say it's probably few hours after noon," he grunted, holding onto his right shoulder while he slowly rotated his arm. A relieved sigh left his mouth as he felt the joint pop and a bit of a tingle surged down his arm as the flow of blood found itself no longer hindered. "Have yeh had lunch yet?"

"Yes. Miss Baylee brought some by earlier."

He nodded his understanding and started to walk around the yard. He scrunched his nose up slightly as he used his boot to stir a bit of the soil. Just from looking at it, he could see that it was good, rich soil, yet the brown of the grass and plants surrounding him didn't set well with him. As a warrior, Dwalin saw far more of the outside world than what most dwarves would have seen in their lifetimes and, though he would never admit it, he rather liked the sight of things that were green and growing –just don't try to feed him a meal consisting purely of the stuff.

Shaking his head, he went back over to Ori. Leaning over the lad's shoulder, he watched as he finished painting one, last letter on the sign. Standing, Ori plucked the sign up and carried it over to the wall where he leaned it against the stone so it could dry. When he turned back around, he found Dwalin curiously picking up the paintbrush that had been sitting in the bowl of green paint.

"You can't use that stuff for tattoos," he chuckled, walking over.

"Wasn't thinkin' 'bout it," Dwalin murmured. His brow rose and a mischievous grin suddenly came to his lips.

Ori frowned, about to take a step back when Dwalin suddenly dragged the brush down the bridge of his nose. His eyes widened and his jaw fell slack; why in the world would he do that?! He tried to get his vocal chords to work again, but they failed as Dwalin picked up the brush from the yellow paint and started to draw thin, squiggling lines along his cheekbones.

Finally, when he was reaching for the white paint, Ori managed to gain control of his body again. "What do you think you're doin'?" he demanded, trying his best to sound like Dori. "That's good paint you're wastin' on my skin! Not to mention, I bathed just this mornin'!"

Dwalin cheekily grinned, making three diamond-shaped dots on his forehead. "I'm makin' yeh a walkin' piece o' art," he teased.

Huffing, Ori snatched up the green paintbrush and started to decorate Dwalin's face as well. His designs were far steadier than Dwalin's and they ranged from the tiniest of green dots to sharp, white knots. Of course, he had less space to work with –Dwalin's beard was much thicker and took up far more space than Ori's beard ever would.

Bifur opened the back door only to find this sight. Ori and Dwalin looked at him, eyes slightly wide and faces covered in drying paint. For a moment, there was total silence between the three of them.

"Agal uŋùkhudhab?" Bifur asked.

"Er, yes," Ori replied. "It's there, by the wall. It needs a bit longer t' dry, though."

Nodding, Bifur moved to close the door, but paused. "Khulhu dugûzu?" he inquired, his tone a bit amused, a bit exasperated.

Dwalin drew a white line down the center of the green one he had put on Ori's nose. "Wastin' paint," he told him with a simple shrug. He added two dots on the sides of his nostrils.

"Nêzu khidez tada…" Shaking his head, he turned back inside and closed the door behind him. Grabbing the toys he had pulled out, he moved to head into the main part of the shop, where Will was hanging up the kites. Bofur had yet to return from the market, which he didn't find very odd; having heard from Will that he and Baylee had met up with his cousin, he supposed that Bofur was following Baylee all over the market.

And of course, Bifur had found the kite string five minutes after Bofur had left.

It was about Bofur and Baylee that Bifur had wanted to speak with Will about, but alas! Will did not know Khuzdul. What he did know –and Bifur had no idea why the lad knew it- was Iglishmêk. He had discovered this fairly recently when he caught Will signing something to his father the other day at the inn. Had he learned it from Warren? He didn't think so; Warren's signing wasn't nearly as fast or concise as Will's. So…where had he learned it?

Regardless, he gave Will's trousers a small tug. When the human looked down at him, he moved his hands. 'Sign drying. Hang in hour.'

He nodded in understanding. "Alright. That gives me some time t' put the bracket up to hold it," he replied, looking back at the hooks he was putting the kite string through. "Then, everythin' should be ready for you an' Bofur to move in."

Bifur grinned and nodded heartily, going to put his toys on some of the shelves. These ones weren't exactly cute like his birds. Instead, they were somewhat macabre. He and Bofur had agreed that these would be set up on a lower shelf that was off to the side of the shop. Why, he didn't know (he seemed to not know a lot of things today) but he allowed it. He was more proud of the birds, anyway.

"Has Ori finished the sign for tomorrow?" Will asked, glancing at the dwarf.

'Not ask. Not want stay to ask.'

"…Why not?" he dared to inquire.

'Ori, Dwalin painting faces. They flirt.'

His head cocked to the side as he stared at Bifur. "…They're…flirting?" he slowly repeated. Bifur nodded. "Dwalin and Ori. They're really flirting?" Again, Bifur nodded.

'Why surprised?' he signed, his own head tilted.

He shrugged, starting to climb down the step stool. "Just…never really heard of two males…flirting."

Bifur smacked his forehead. Of course he would forget such a thing: flirtation amongst the same genders wasn't common with humans. It wasn't unheard of, but those who preferred their own gender had the tendency to keep quiet about it. With dwarves, on the other hand –well, there were so many males and so few females that no one really cared.

'About flirting…' he casually signed when Will had tucked the stool away. 'Think Bofur flirt Baylee.'

Will's eyes widened and, much to Bifur's surprise, he grinned. "So I'm not the only one noticin' it?" he gasped. "I thought I was the only one; not even dad has noticed it an' he's been tryin' to find Baylee a lad for ages!"

'Try talk Bofur of Baylee.' He felt an odd sense of relief rushing through him. 'Said no interest. Lied.'

He nodded. "I'm not sure 'bout Baylee. I've never known when she's fancied someone; she's never been one to really talk about that sort o' thing, but I know that she feels something for him. I just don't know if it's in a romantic way."

'Comfortable with him. Know that.'

Will sat down on the stood, scratching the side of his neck. "That she is, but she's like that with all o' you. I daresay she gets along better with you lads than she does our human customers." He chuckled, lightly shaking his head. "But, aye, like I said, I'm not able to tell if she actually fancies him."

'Ask?' he signed with a shrug.

He cocked his brow. "Ask her if she's got feelings for Bofur?" he repeated with a small laugh. "Bifur, do you realize how dangerous that is? She may be my twin, but girls never appreciate a male asking them if they fancy someone."

Bifur blinked, about to inquire as to why this was, but the door opened as Bofur returned. He held in his hand a basket filled with an assortment of items ranging from a thin length of jewelry chain, some new woodcarving tools for work on tiny objects, and even some gemstones. In the other hand, he held a large sack. Both of these caused his cousin to raise a curious brow.

"Khulhu tada?" he inquired.

"Oh, kite string!" he chirped, setting the sack on the counter. He looked up at the ceiling, brow rising. "Though I see you've managed t' find our stock. Well, that just means we've got extra now."

"Imiduhk nâtaradukesh."

"Oh…Um…" His cheeks turned a bit pink as he looked inside his basket. "Just some things…you know, toy-making things," he lied. He didn't want to say the truth with Will being there.

Bifur's brow rose; he knew well enough that his cousin was lying. Gently grabbing Bofur's arm, he firmly signed, 'Tell truth,' to him as Will pretended to be adjusting the laces on his boots.

With a small sigh, Bofur set his things down, signing back. 'Make present for Baylee birthday.'

'Present?'

He nodded. 'Bracelet.'

Bifur nodded approvingly as he scratched his chin through his beard. 'Why?'

'Birthday.'

'And?'

He shook his head. 'No why. Birthday.' Grabbing the basket once more, he headed upstairs in a small bit of a huff.

Bifur grinned broadly and turned to Will, who was quietly snickering.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Rán sighed as he and Nakara entered the inn yard of the Full Tankard. Glancing around, he saw no one in the vicinity, which brought some ease to him. He followed Nakara into the stables, from which Peter was missing.

'More than likely, he is inside eating lunch,' he thought, turning left towards their horses.

Nakara had said nothing to him since they entered the city. The two of them had always disliked like one another and not even they could really state why. There was just something about one the other couldn't stand. Regardless, Nakara was loyal to his commander and followed orders with almost never complaining.

This was what irritated Rán. Nakara was a good man; he had proved it time and time again. He was loyal, kind, intelligent, and had fighting skills that were matched only by their Chief. The only reason he wasn't leader of the group was because he wasn't good with decision making. Rán had no reason to keep him from pursuing a romantic relationship with Ashailyn for any reason other than his dislike of the man.

It was so frustrating!

But if there was one thing Rán knew, it was that love was more powerful than the will of a family. That's why he let out a sigh and leaned against the frame of one of the stalls. "I need to speak with you."

Nakara glanced up as he stroked his horse's cheek. "About what?" he replied, moving towards the back of the creature. He gently coaxed the beast to lift its hind leg so that he could remove the cloth bag tied around its hoof and check its wound.

"Ashailyn." He watched as the other man paused for the slightest of moments.

"What of her?"

"I know you've feelings for her."

Again, he paused. Closing his eyes, he quietly sighed and shook his head, looking the hoof over. "And I suppose you are going to tell me that I am forbidden from pursuing such interests in her?"

Turning away, Rán sighed and started to check on his own horse. "No. In fact, I was going to tell you that you have my blessing to do that very thing. If you wish for me to disagree, however, I would be more than happy to, should you provide me with a reason to."

Standing upright, Nakara stared at Rán's back in shock. "You…are giving me your blessing?" he repeated, finding himself more than a little shocked. "Why would you do such a thing when we're at each other's throats most of the time?"

He glanced up as he used his fingers to comb through his horse's mane, a brow raised. "There are a couple of reasons," he answered, looking back down, "the first and foremost being that you are a good man and would be a good match for Ashailyn. You have her wellbeing and interests in mind; after all, you were the one who convinced Chief to let her come with us." He fell silent.

Nakara watched him for a moment before once more inspecting the hoof. As he roughly tapped on it with his knuckle, his horse made no signs of discomfort, letting him know that the wound had healed or mostly healed. With a small smile, he lifted the bag and allowed his horse to stand on all four legs again. He sighed and nuzzled the creature before leaving the stall.

"What are the other reasons?" he quietly asked, moving to check on Girish's horse. By now, Rán was in the stall with Ashailyn's horse.

"Just because we do not get along does not mean I would put you through the pain Donar and I had to endure."

"But…His family had reasons for not letting you two marry I thought?"

He let out a quiet, sarcastic laugh. "They merely claimed it was because I had a beard that they would not let us marry. My family had never slighted theirs."

"Until Bipin attacked the two of you and you slew him in self-defense…"

Rán nodded. "He had no honor left in him, not after he killed his own brother for merely loving a half-dwarf." Sighing, he went into the stall of Fifika's horse. "So, no. I would not wish that pain on anyone aside from my most bitter enemies."

"Understandable," Nakara replied solemnly.

"Her favorite color is blue, by the way."

He glanced up. "What?"

"Blue. Ashailyn's favorite color is blue. Keep that in mind if ever you purchase a gift for her."

Nakara managed a small smile. "Thank you."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"C'mon, lass –move yer feet faster!"

Baylee grunted as she stumbled backwards, having just been knocked in the gut by Dwalin's elbow. It hadn't knocked the wind out of her, but he hadn't been gentle either. She tumbled out of the way as he brought his sword around, aiming for her midsection. With another grunt, she whipped the spear around, smacking the dwarf's back with the butt of the weapon.

As he stumbled forward, she used the momentum of the blow to bring the spear around and knock him upside the head with the tip of the spear (which, like the sword, was wrapped in fabric to prevent bloodshed). Dwalin growled and tried to stab at her stomach, but she hopped backwards. Despite the attack, she saw a grin on his lips.

The grin, though, proved to be a bit of a distraction to her. She didn't see his leg sweeping around until it was too late and she was flat on her back, groaning. Dwalin brought his sword down towards her neck, but she held up the spear, using its shaft to block the blade. In a combination of sheer luck and sheer accident, she slammed the butt of the spear upwards.

Dwalin froze, a pain filling his entire body.

It stemmed from his family jewels.

Dropping sword and clenching crotch, he fell over, a high-pitched squeak leaving his mouth. His head spun and his ears rang with pain; he could only just make out Baylee's quick-spoken apologies and the laughter of his comrades as they watched on. He did his best to keep his eyes from watering, but with the force she had used, it was inevitable.

Nori walked over, grinning as he looked at the incapacitated Dwalin. "Well, lass…Looks like it's four wins for you," he mused, using his boot to roll Dwalin onto his back.

Baylee lightly smacked his foot. "Don't do that!" she scolded. "Mister Dwalin, I am so sorry! I swear, I hadn't known the spear was there!" She looked quite worried as she knelt beside the dwarf, unsure of what to do. They had no ice; winter was long gone. Her uncle was out of his pain-relieving mixtures.

"Yer not the first, lass," he managed to grunt out, his voice a bit squeaky. After a few minutes, he relinquished his hold and shakily sat up. "I jus' normally have armor on when I get hit there…" Seeing Nori's cheeky grin and hearing his chuckles, he reached over and yanked his feet out from under him, causing the star-haired dwarf to topple on his back.

"Wha' was that for?" Nori wheezed. He kicked his foot into Dwalin's back.

"For bein' an arse!"

"It's funny, seein' a big oaf like you cryin' like a wee babe!"

"Oh, shush!" Baylee half-snapped. "Are you sure you're fine, Mister Dwalin? I can run and find some pain-"

He held up his hand, a pained, though reassuring, look on his face. "'M fine, lass. That's actually somethin' yeh want t' keep in mind if ever yer fightin' male. Go for the family jewels an' yeh might get 'em sobbin' on their knees." He stood, though it was bowlegged, and helped pull her to her feet. "An' Nori's right. Yeh've got four wins under yer belt today. Means yeh win the majority." Managing a half-grin that looked more like a grimace, he winced as he went to retrieve his fallen sword.

"Should I have a cool bath drawn up for you?" Baylee asked, still fretting. "It may help…an' it'd get the rest o' the paint off o' your face."

Dwalin cocked his brow, knowing full well that his face was still smudged with bits of green and white from his and Ori's earlier painting escapade. While he had only scrubbed at his face, Ori was currently in the bathing room, using a good bunch of soap and hot water to cleanse his skin of the paint.

"Eh," he at last spoke, "sure, why not? Can't hurt."

As he waddled off towards the kitchen, Baylee crouched down, grabbing her spear and offering a hand to Nori. When she pulled him to his feet, she glanced over her shoulder, seeing some of the rangers entering the inn yard. Most of them walked towards the stable, but Rán broke away from them, speaking to them in their native tongue. Every time she heard it, Baylee liked the sound of it more and more; it rolled off their tongues, sounding almost like music.

Shaking her head, she and Nori started for the kitchen door. After all, she had to let someone know to fill Dwalin's bath and it would be dinner soon; she needed to get cleaned up. She was stopped, however, as Rán called out to her.

"Miss Baylee? May I have a word?"

Stopping, she nodded and waited for him to catch up. She could see the new sword that hung from his hip and she smiled. "I see ya got your new weapons today."

He nodded, also smiling, though it seemed to Baylee that it bore a hint of sorrow. "Indeed we did," he told her, "and because of that, we will be leaving ere the sun rises tomorrow."

"Why so early?" she asked, leaning on the spear slightly. Her leg hurt from when Dwalin had smacked it a little too hard with the flat of his blade; it had been his only win that day. The thought that she had beaten him left her rather perplexed. "If you don't mind me askin', that is."

"Not at all. My rangers are homesick and wish to return to our homeland as soon as possible. While a few of us may wish to stay here, the majority have voted in favor of returning." He glanced over his shoulder as Ashailyn, Kreine, and Hunil left the stables, heading for the front of the inn. Ashailyn gave him a small wink and smirked while his insides twisted themselves into a knot. "As, ah, such…it is customary amongst our people to give parting gifts to those who have shown exceptional hospitality."

She was thankful that her cheeks were still flushed from sparring. "That's somethin' I never heard of," she admitted with a small laugh. "Normally it's the hosts givin' the guests gifts t' make 'em feel welcomed."

He started to search for something in a pouch on his belt. "Shelter, food, drink, and other such services are the gifts the guests receive," he explained, "while the hosts are left acting as if they were servants."

"That's an interestin' way o' lookin' at it," she murmured thoughtfully. "So you even give gifts to—Oh no, that's far too nice, Rán…" Her eyes had widened when Rán had pulled forth a necklace from the pouch.

He shook his head. "It is a simple choker," he told her. "Miss Wenna will be receiving a similar piece of jewelry." Something in her told her that Wenna would receive something far less nice, but she ignored that part of her mind.

"Th-Thank you," she stammered, still in awe. To him it may have been simple, but to her it was queenly. Her family was not poor by any means, but well-crafted jewelry was something bought only for special occasions. She ran her fingers along the main part of the necklace, which consisted of five small rows of silver chain interwoven like chainmail. Every other link had a citrine dangling from it at varying heights. "It's beautiful," she mumbled.

Rán's cheeks were a bit flushed. "I thought the citrine fitting, since I have only seen you not wearing yellow twice," he chuckled. "May I?" He motioned at the necklace, intending to help her put it on. Nodding, Baylee handed the necklace to him and pulled her hair off to the side.

It was the sight of Rán clasping the choker around Bayle's neck that Bofur passed on his way to the inn. He frowned and backed up a few spaces, his brow slowly rising as he watched Baylee release her hair and run her fingers along her neck. Squinting, he was able to make out the sight of the necklace and his brow rose. Something inside of him started to grow envious and he felt his grip tighten around the handle of his basket.

'What in Mahal's name do you think you're doing?' he thought, eyes narrowing. 'You have no business getting her jewelry…'

"Bofur? Everything alright?"

He blinked, coming out of his trance only to find Will standing beside him. The tall lad looked down at him, concern on his features. He forced himself to smile, but it looked genuine on his lips. "I'm fine. Just tired, lad," he managed to lie. "Excitement 'bout the shop openin' has been keepin' me awake at night." That was only a partial lie; he had been kept up by the anticipation, but it hadn't been leaving him drained.

"Well, we'll get some food in you an' then you should be feelin' better," Will chuckled. He glanced up, seeing Baylee with her spear. "Excuse me; I need t' see how well Baylee did with her sparring today." As he walked off, Rán walked out of the yard, his cheeks still a bit pink.

Bofur followed after him, glaring at his back. "Why did you get her the necklace?" he suddenly heard himself ask.

Rán cocked a brow and turned. "It's customary for my people to give parting gifts to generous hosts," he informed. Despite his words, there was a slight smirk on his lips and a hint of cockiness to his voice. "If you'll excuse me, I need to find Miss Wenna and Miss Demelza so I can give their gifts to them as well."

While part of him said that Rán's words were true, another part of Bofur wanted to lurch forward and slam his fist into his face. The tone the ranger had used with him did not sit well with the dwarf and, as he sat down at the usual table, Nori and Bifur already drinking from foaming mugs, he lightly shook his head. Something like this shouldn't have upset him this much. After all, it's not like Rán wished to pursue Baylee romantically…

…Why did that even matter?

There was a small squeal of excitement across the room and he dared to glance over, watching as Rán handed a necklace to each Wenna and Demelza. The younger of the two women bounce excitedly on the balls of her feet, earning a laugh from the ranger. He helped the two of them put the necklaces on –Demelza had gotten long, silver chain with an emerald for a pendant and Wenna a golden choker with three rubies. Simple jewelry, but still rather pricey for someone with a ranger's salary…

"Well, at least he was tellin' the truth then," he muttered under his breath.

Despite this, he still wanted to punch Rán.


	12. Chapter 12

The shop was _packed._

It was barely noon and Bifur and Bofur's Toyshoppe was having a most excellent first day. At first, they only had one or two people stop in –they bought nothing. The two dwarves had just been growing disheartened when a group of young mothers out for a mid-morning stroll with their little ones stopped in. So amused and impressed by the toys (as well as being unable to resist the pleading pouts from their children), they had bought various toys.

Word of mouth had quickly spread after that small group left. Soon, more folk came in, whether they had children or not, and browsed the wares. More toys were bought and more people left only to be replaced by double the amount a few minutes later.

And now that it was noon, Bofur was having a hard time keeping up with all the sales. He was more than a little thankful that Ori and William were also there to help with the customers, since Bifur was unable to communicate. Instead, he sat at the counter, happily whittling away on the figure of a horse he had started on the previous night. He would occasionally glance up at his cousin only to quietly chortle and shake his head before returning to whittling.

More than once, Bofur found himself having to dash into the back room and throw open crates of toys so that he could restock the shelves or to find a kite in the shape of a certain animal. One little boy was left a bit saddened that he had to make do with a wolf-shaped kite because there were none in the shape of a dragon; he was too young to remember the horrors of Smaug.

By the time the crowd started to thin down, it was nearly two in the afternoon. Will and Ori sat down on stools with sighs, leaning back to rest their tired backs against the wall. There were only three customers in the shop at that point –a woman, her son, and an elderly man.

"It's a good thing we got so bored over the last couple o' years, isn't it?" Bofur quietly joked with his cousin.

"Gholiz," Bifur chuckled. He glanced over at Ori and Will, setting his tools down. "Dâzhzu ghelekhur?" he inquired.

Ori nodded, though hid a yawn behind his hand. "We're doing fine," he reassured him. "It just got a bit…crazy there for a bit."

Will grinned, though kept his eyes shut. "It was a refreshing pace," he joked. "Certainly worked off that large breakfast I had this morning!" He teasingly patted his stomach. "Wonder if Baylee'll be by with a lunch for us or if we'll have t' fend for ourselves?"

"Udu kulhu klutmâ, Az-Baylee uband avlâmniku," Bifur informed them.

Bofur frowned slightly. "That so? May have t' dig out the ointment again, then…"

Will cocked his brow. "What did he say?" he inquired, opening an eye to look at them.

"Said he heard that your sister's on linen duty today," Bofur answered. "If it goes as well as it did last time, I'll need t' find that burn ointment…"

The human laughed. "Oh, don't worry about that –da' didn't want t' risk another bad soap incident, so he tossed all the soap we had an' had Baylee and Wenna buy new soap from the most reputable soap makers." He gave them a reassuring grin. "She'll be fine."

Bifur glanced up as the woman approached the counter, balancing her son on her hip and holding a story book in her free hand. He nudged Bofur in the ribs, drawing his attention.

"Excuse me, but how much does this book cost?" she inquired. Her son leaned over, trying to grab it from her, earning a small chuckle. "We'll look at the pictures soon, lad," she quietly cooed to him.

Bofur smiled. "Eight silver, miss," he replied. Bifur chuckled beside him as the little boy latched onto the book while his mother fished around for the coins. "Wee tyke is anxious t' see more o' the pretty pictures, is he?" He watched at the child tried to open the book, but his mother's torso made it somewhat hard.

"That he is," she replied, separating her silver coins from copper and gold. "He loves havin' stories read t' him before naptime an' bedtime. Oh…I've only got six silver." Her brows furrowed as she tried to find more silver coins, but to no avail. "I guess I'll have to come back tomorrow…" she murmured.

Bofur waved his hand and slid two of the coins back. "Here; lil' fellow's stories are more important than a few coins."

The woman looked thoroughly surprised. "R-really?" she asked. "Are you sure? I could just come back tomorrow-"

He shrugged. "You could. Or you could read your son some stories tonight an' have him happily dreamin'," he told her with a smile. "Would ya like me t' wrap it up in some paper or would you rather let him look through it?"

A thankful smile came to her lips. "Thank-you," she told him. "I think he'd pout if'n you were t' wrap it, so I'll just take it as is."

He nodded in understanding. "Have a good day, miss."

"You too, master," she smiled before leaving with her son.

Looking around, Bofur saw that the old man had left, leaving the shop free of customers for the time being. Sliding a key out of his pocket, he unlocked the lockbox under the counter and slid the coins into it. His eyes lit up when he saw that it would soon need to be emptied –for the third time that day. Snapping the lid shut and twisting the key to lock it again, he turned around and gave the box a shake.

"I think the drinks will be on me 'n Bifur tonight," he told the other two.

"Oh, Dwalin and Nori will like that for sure," Ori chirped, sitting upright once more.

Bifur shrugged. "Imhilkhi…udugh Bofur ûn tashf nu ghuluz," he told them. As he spoke, he set down his whittling equipment and used Iglishmêk for Will's benefit.

Will frowned slightly. "You two are leavin' the inn, then?" he asked. "I mean, I know you've got part o' the upstairs converted into bedrooms, but your kitchen is mighty sparse and I don't think you've any pots or pans for cookin'."

The cousins looked at each other and chuckled. "We won't need much, lad," Bofur told him. "We plan t' frequent the inn still; Galiene's cookin' rivals my brother's. Pots, pans, and bowls we've got with us, though –they just aren't unpacked yet."

Bifur nodded in agreement, his fingers starting to sign. 'Not want us go?' The grin on his face let the human know he was joking.

"It's not that. It's just…you've been there nigh two months. The only time someone's stayed any longer was when an old man all but bought a room back in Lake Town."

"So, you're sayin' we've become like family?" Bofur grinned.

Before Will could answer, however, the door opened and both Nori and Dwalin came in. Nori held a large basket in his hand while Dwalin carried an equally large basket, though he also had a small barrel tucked under his arm. They set these things down on the counter beside Bifur's things without so much as a 'hello'.

"From Galiene, Demelza, an' Baylee," Nori told them. "A nice, hearty lunch for your first day on the job."

"An' some good beer t' wash it down from Warren," Dwalin grinned. "We tried t' stop by earlier t' see how things were goin', but it was jus' too crowded for us. So we went back an' had ourselves some lunch an' listened t' gossip 'bout the town. Apparently yeh'll be gettin' a flood o' customers come midafternoon."

Bifur's eyes widened. "Tada kidgh?" Dwalin nodded and Bifur looked at Bofur. "Ughlakhmâ blug ra rimish bovod," he told him, his voice a bit worried sounding.

He nodded in agreement. "That we should. Ori, Will –c'mon lads; we need t' get this eaten before midday is up."

As the four scrambled to get food, Nori glanced around the shop. A few items had been moved from their places, but everything seemed in order. They had done a good job keeping their wares stocked as well; he could hardly tell that a large crowd of people had been in there earlier. Walking over to one of the shelves, he saw that it held a collection of toy animals that could be pulled along behind a child via a string. Glancing over his shoulder, he made sure no one was looking before curiously tugging the string on a horse figure.

To his surprise, it did more than merely roll across the shelf. Its body moved as it rolled, mimicking the smooth movements of a real horse. His braided brow rose and he tried it with the figure of a dog; it, too, had mobile joints as well as ears that flapped up and down gaily. There was even a cat with a swishing tail and a chicken with a bobbing head. On the floor alongside the shelf were life-sized versions of the cat and the dog.

"How much for these wee things?" he called back to the others. Plucking up the chicken, he grinned slightly. It reminded him of Dori.

Bifur glanced up. "Hadud makal."

Walking over to them, the chicken still in hand, Nori fished seven copper coins from his coin purse and put them on the counter. "Ori, doesn't this remind you of Dori?" He pulled it along the counter, amused by the perfect bobbing of the chicken's head.

Ori watched as well, quietly laughing. "It does. It's even a hen," he grinned. His eyes then widened and he covered his mouth to stifle some giggles. "Don't tell me you bought tha' for him!"

A wicked smirk came to his lips. "Of course not. Why would I ever get our beloved, maternal brother such a cruel gift?"

Dwalin snorted from across the room. He had been looking at the mechanical birds that Bifur had made. "We all know how much yeh just adore yer brother there, Nori. I'm sure Dori will appreciate the gift." Standing on his tiptoes, he could see the little cards that stated the prices for each of the birds. The eagle, being the biggest, was the most expensive at a gold piece –a fair price, he thought, because Bifur had spent so long working out how to get the mechanisms just right. 'Balin really liked these,' he thought, resisting the urge to reach up and take one for closer inspection. He knew that the toys weren't fragile –Bifur had made them to last- but he didn't want be caught playing with a child's plaything. 'Maybe I should get him one? His birthday is coming up soon, after all…and he was full of such wonder seeing the Lord of Eagles…'

Shrugging, he plucked the eagle off of the shelf and pulled a gold piece from somewhere inside his vest. He flicked it over onto the counter, earning confused looks from Ori and Will, who hadn't seen him grab the toy.

"Aw, even Dwalin has a soft spot for toys," Bofur teased.

Dwalin's brow rose as he half-glared at the smaller dwarf. "S'not for me," he flatly told him. "S'for Balin. He loved seein' the Lord o' Eagles. Remember? He was the only one besides Gandalf convinced tha' they weren't goin' t' eat us when they saved us from the wargs." Before he could get teased further, he left the shop, grumbling to himself about how he needed to find a box and some hay so he could send the eagle off to his brother.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Baylee wore a frown as she stared down an obstinate stain on one of her brother's shirts. It was a sort of dark purplish color similar to that left by blackberries and it was on the stomach of the garment. Despite her best efforts to remove it, it refused to wash out of the brown fabric and she supposed it rather enjoyed its new home.

She knew that he worn this shirt just the previous day and there had been no such stain on it. She also knew that Will hadn't gone out during the night –had he? If he did, it had been late and he had finally remembered to unlatch his window. Shaking her head, she sighed and once more rubbed the soap into the fabric.

The door to the washroom opened, though she didn't look up. "Set them there," she told who she thought was Wenna, pointing at a small pile of sheets near the tub. "I'll get t' them soon."

"Well, if I had something that wasn't food to put there, I would."

Baylee looked up, eyes wide as she saw her father. He laughed as he saw her shocked expression and lightly shook his head.

"I brought ya some lunch," he told her. "Galiene said she hadn't seen you since breakfast and since it's long past midday…"

He looked around the area, surprised by all the clothing that she already had strung up to dry. Its north and eastern walls were missing, having purposefully been remodeled that way so whatever had been hung up to dry could have access to the breezes. It had been Demelza's idea –one that worked surprisingly well. Since it was built much like a wide, covered porch, they needn't worry about much rain or snow getting in during winter.

She watched him curiously. "It's past midday?" she repeated. "What time is it then?"

"Nearly three!" he answered with a laugh. "Have ya been that dazed while washin'? It's not even that warm in here, 'Lee." Sitting down, Warren rested his back against one of the support beams, motioning for his daughter to come join him. He also set down a large tray packed with food and drink. "Ah, don't worry. I was lost in my own thoughts out in the forge."

Wringing out Will's shirt, she moved to hang it up on one of the many lines strung across the room before going to sit near her father. "It's never a good thing if you're lost in thoughts while in the forge, papa. You could get yourself a nasty burn that way." Pulling her knees to her chest, she reached down and started to pick at the food.

"The soup's for you," he informed her as he took up a large piece of boiled, cured beef. "And I have my reasons for gettin' lost in my thoughts." He peeled off a length of the beef before popping it into his mouth. "But everythin' I do in that small room is so ingrained into my mind tha' I can do it all without needin' t' think."

She glanced up at him as she took up the bowl of soup. Just by the smell of it, she knew it to be fish soup. "What've you been thinkin' about, papa?" she dared to ask. Using her fingers rather than the spoon, she reached into the soup to pluck out the chunks of fish, popping it into her mouth. Her stomach grumbled appreciatively; she was hungrier than she had thought.

For a moment, Warren was silent as he continued to eat the beef. He reached down once, grabbing a mug and taking a long drink out of it; Baylee supposed it had some warmed cider in it since it was steaming. He stole a look at his daughter, smiling slightly; most didn't realize it thanks to her shortness and ashy hair, but she bore a great resemblance to her mother. The freckles, the wide, green eyes, the smile…even the too-big front teeth were all traits Baylee and Éolynna shared.

"Papa?" she questioned, her brows furrowing slightly. "Is something wrong?"

Shaking his head, he set the mug down. "No, nothing's wrong, 'Lee," he quietly reassured her. "It's just…You'll be turnin' twenny-four soon an'…Well…"

She bit the inside of her cheek. "You want me t' start lookin' for a husband," she quietly finished.

"It's just –ya need t' at least start lookin' a wee bit, 'Lee. I don't think I can even recall ya courtin' someone before," he admitted. He rubbed the back of his neck. He hadn't needed to have this conversation with Will; Will knew well enough that, as a son, he would need to find himself a good wife sometime soon. But Baylee…?

"I've courted a few lads!" she argued. "Just…not for very long…" She self-consciously rubbed her arm and looked away from her father as she blushed. "I've had my eyes on a few, but they're not the types who'd fall for an inn maid."

"An' why not?" he demanded. "Are they too thickheaded t' see that you'd be the catch o' their lives?"

She gave him a long look, her brow raised slightly. "They're courtin' other lasses, that's why." Plucking a piece of carrot from the soup, she popped it into her mouth.

"So, aye, they're too thickheaded."

"Papa!"

He grinned cheekily. "C'mon, 'Lee, I'm just pullin' your leg."

Her brow remained raised as she sipped some of the soup's warm broth. It helped to warm her up quite a bit; it may have been spring, but the winds that filled the room were still crisp with the bite of winter. "I'll find a lad someday," she reassured her father. "Just…don't expect it t' be any time soon."

"You never know –you may find one down in Lake Town."

She snorted before cracking up in a fit of laughter. "No, thank-you! I'll look around Dale an' Erebor instead. The men and dwarves are much better husband material."

Warren's brows furrowed. "You'd…court a dwarf?" he slowly asked.

Baylee lightly shrugged, getting another chunk of fish from the stew. "Why not? I'm about the same height as them anyway," she chuckled. "Anyway, some o' them are quite handsome –an' they tend t' be much friendlier than human blokes." She stuck the fish in her mouth and chewed away, looking out over the city below them.

"It's just a lil' odd that you would."

"I thought you liked dwarves, papa?"

"I do! They're mighty fine blokes. But I don't think I'd want my daughter courtin' one." He peeled off another piece of the beef and took a bite out of it.

She frowned and glanced at him. "Why not? Like I said, they're-"

"Aye, they're good folk," he reassured her, "but, 'Lee. They age far slower 'n us humans."

"So?" She shrugged and drank some more broth. "I know full well a dwarf can look thirty but actually be a hun'erd-fifty."

He nodded. "That's why, Baylee. If you were to marry a young dwarf, he wouldn't age with you. He may get a little older, but not by much." He set a large hand on her shoulder. "He would look an' be as spry as a sapling while you got older an' older…And then who knows how long he'll continue t' live after you pass on? Dwarves only fall in love once or twice, 'Lee."

Her brows furrowed as she listened to his words and her eyes fell to the remainder of her soup. She didn't enjoy the picture Warren had painted with his words, even if she knew full well that it was possible for someone to continue on without their spouse –he was one of them. But dwarves lived much longer and if they had so few chances to find love…She shook her head, knowing that if a dwarf were to fall for a human, they would make the most of their time together. That's what love was about after all.

"Then let's hope that, if I do fall for a dwarf, he's an older one with some grey already in his beard."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"'Ey, c'mon, Bifur! Don't stint!"

"Izmâ!"

"Yes yeh are; look –tha' mug ain't even half full!"

"Angûriskha shuluk," he argued, pointing at the foam. "Gîrisknârgh arkabeth."

Dwalin raised his brow. "Fine, fine. I'll believe yeh this time," he grinned, knowing Bifur told the truth. The beer had overflowed with foam, so the older dwarf was letting it die down a bit before he continued to fill the mug.

On most nights, it would have been one of the girls or Will filling the mugs, but they were so busy tending to other customers that they had entrusted the dwarves to refilling their own drinks. The crowd surprised the dwarves; as far as they knew, there was no holiday or any sort of celebration going on.

Shrugging, Dwalin took up two of the foaming mugs and carried them back to the table while Bifur carried the other three. It wasn't his place to ask those sorts of questions. It was, however, his place to drink delicious beer to his heart's content –especially since the drinks were on Bofur that night.

He should have known that Dwalin and Nori would take advantage of such a thing.

As the two dwarves were setting their beers down, Demelza and Wenna came over with trays full to the brim with their dinner. Ori and Bifur helped the two women get everything settled so they could hurry off to tend to other customers. Nori was of little help; he kept stealing bits of food off of the plates as they were passed around the table, earning a bit of a scolding from his youngest brother.

"I'm hungry," he argued. "I'd like to see you not do the same if'n you've not eaten since breakfast!"

"And just why haven't you eaten?" Ori demanded, holding a plate of rolls out of his reach. "There was plenty of food at the shop this afternoon, you could have had some then!"

He rolled his eyes and waited for the food to be settled. "Because I went back home for a bit an' didn't want t' get sick from Dori's cookin'." At his reply, Bofur and Dwalin cracked up, knowing full well that most of Dori's cooking was rather…inedible. "An' I would have stopped for food in the market, but I wanted t' make it back here before night fell."

Ori cocked his brow as he glared at his brother. He knew that Nori was telling the truth –most of it, at least. Nori always had a hard time lying to Ori. Shaking his head, Ori sighed and set the rolls down near Dwalin, knowing that the burly dwarf would make sure that Nori wouldn't take more than his fair share.

"Dori should take lessons from Miss Galiene," he at last spoke. "He makes a good chicken soup, but that's about it. Except he puts spinach in it."

Nori's brows furrowed. "You used to gobble the spinach out of the soup. Don't tell me you don't like it anymore."

"It's green!"

"Mabahk wîhyid danukur ablug," Bifur mused. "Izhûl danuk ablug ghelek…Amtêk khazâdmâ!" Dwalin quietly snickered at that comment; he barely ate green food and he was as strong as an ox.

Ori shook his head defiantly. "Ever since that Rivendell place, I can't stand the taste of green food."

Bofur cocked his brow. "I don't know. I thought it tasted rather good. Then again, I have a soft spot for dandelion salad. Especially with a side o' roasted buttercups an'-" He paused, seeing the odd looks he was earning from his companions. "What? Can't a dwarrow enjoy some salad every now an' again?" he asked with a small frown. "We don't always have t' be eatin' meat. I mean, some salad or roasted vegetables are good every now an' again! They help keep you regular, if you're catchin' my drift."

Bifur lightly patted him on the shoulder. "Cazîmun, Bofur."

He pouted as he took a long, slow drink of his beer. "Tellin' me t' shush just because I like salad…" Setting his mug down, he reached out and pulled a bowl of fresh, uncooked greens towards him. Ori cringed slightly, but said nothing as he forked some roasted potatoes and carrots onto his plate.

Nori chuckled. "I, for one, think salad's alright if you pour some hot pork fat over it and add in some bacon an' toasted bread. Maybe some cheese as well. You hardly taste the green of it all through the bacon."

Dwalin raised his brow. "Why would yeh tarnish the heavenliness o' bacon by doin' that?" he inquired. He stuck his knife into a large piece of boiled beef and brought it onto his plate along with a fairly large serving of oven-roasted sausages.

"Because it's good," Nori repeated. "I'll have t' have Galiene make it for you sometime t' prove it."

Ori shook his head, sighing. "Not even bacon could make a salad good."

Bifur raised his brow as he glanced at the youngling. "Khelech agrunâkzu corîch," he lightly scolded. "Khi mukhuh taghelêkh."

He pouted slightly and brought some roasted mushrooms and a roll onto his plate. "Who knew salads could be such a debate amongst dwarrows…?" he grumbled under his breath.

"Urùthûkhruk cheese," Bifur requested of Nori.

Nori, however, just stared at him, mouth slightly open in shock.

"Khulu? Urùthûkhruk khi, mîb," frowned Bifur. He then noticed that the other three dwarves were also staring at him with the same shocked look (which was a little disgusting on Dwalin's part, for his mouth had been full of half-chewed food). "Khulu khi!?" he demanded, brows furrowed.

It was Nori who spoke first. "You said 'cheese'," he murmured. As if hit with a brick of realization, he grinned broadly and laughed. "Bifur! You said 'cheese' in Westron!"

"Dîz?" he blinked. "Aglâb cheese?" His eyes shot open. "Agláb cheese! Cheese!" he cried happily.

Bofur burst into a fit of merry laughter. "See? I told ya that you'd relearn Westron" he called, pointing at his cousin. "I told ya! Wait 'til Bombur hears about this! He'll be ecstatic!"

Bifur was shaking from excitement. After so long, he had spoken a word in Westron –and it was on accident! Maybe…just maybe if he concentrated on saying other words –he knew it would take a great deal of effort- he could once more be fluent in the language. He just had to practice at it…

~*~*~*~*~*

Baylee held her knees to her chest as she stared out of her window. It was open, letting the cool night breezes waft in and clear the room of any stuffiness. A quiet sigh left her mouth as she stared out across Dale towards the great mountain of Erebor, just barely able to see the small, yellow specks that were the great torches that illuminated the entrance into the dwarven city. It was a sight that was frequently the last thing she saw before falling asleep, but tonight, sleep was evading her.

Raising a mug to her lips, she slowly took a sip of the chamomile tea it held. The moon was shining brightly in the sky, nearly being full. The light of it and the stars worked together to give Dale and the lands around it a deep blue color. She found it rather pretty and envied those, like Ori, who were able to capture such beauty on paper or canvas.

"You're not supposed to be awake." Will sat down on the edge of her bed. He was wearing his night shirt and a pair of loose breeches and looked very much like he had just woken up.

"I didn't wake ya, did I?" she asked with a small frown.

He shook his head. "Had t' use the privy," he replied. "What has you awake? Did you have another…?"

"No. Just been thinkin' is all." She scooted over, allowing for her brother to sit beside her.

Will climbed onto the bed and sat beside her, his arm wrapping around her shoulders. "About?"

"Somethin' papa told me earlier."

He frowned slightly and mentally cursed. "What did he tell you?"

She sighed, her finger tracing the rim of her mug. "That…I should be thinkin' 'bout gettin' married soon," she quietly admitted. "Said I should start keepin' my eye out for a lad t' settle down with." Taking a drink of the chamomile, she knew her brother was growing upset; he didn't show it, but she knew he was not pleased.

Will rubbed her shoulder, sighing. "Take your time," he softly reassured her. "We're only twenty-three…we both have plenty o' time ahead of us before we need to get married. He should know well enough tha' love can't be forced out o' someone."

Resting her head against him, she closed her eyes. "Thing is…I have been lookin', Will. Every man that I end up fancyin' turns out t' be taken or not interested in me at all…or they turn out t' be shallow arsemunches…"

"Well, maybe you're not lookin' in the right places? No doubt most o' the blokes you see are customers of ours. Lake Town has a bunch of new residents from Dorwinion, so maybe you'll find someone down there?"

She shrugged, offering him her mug of tea. He gladly took it and drank from it. "Maybe. Or maybe I'll end up an old, husbandless crone who makes bread all day an' chats up inn patrons…" She chuckled at the thought. "That wouldn't be too bad; sounds kind o' fun, really."

Lifting his brow, he gave his twin a dry look. "Or maybe you'll end up with a dwarf lad."

"Papa says he hopes I don't fall for one."

"Why's that?" He frowned again; he would need to have a frank talk with their father later.

She shifted and turned in his arm so that her back was against his side and his arm draped over just one shoulder. "He doesn't like the fact that, if I fell for a young dwarf, the rates of aging would be too different. I'd turn into a wrinkly ol' grey thing while he stayed young an' handsome."

He rolled his eyes. "I have the feeling you gave him a snappy comeback."

Again, she giggled. "Aye…I told him, 'Well then, let's hope I fall for an older dwarf –one who has some grey in his beard'." Tilting her head back, Will could see she wore a tired grin. "I'm actually startin' t' not mind the idea o' marryin' a dwarf," she admitted. "I mean…they know how t' have fun."

"That they do," he agreed, nodding. "And they know how to spoil their lovers. I've heard tales from Bifur and Bofur about how this mysterious Bombur loves to randomly give his wife extravagant gifts –no reason at all, just gives her presents."

"Well, after she gave birth to eight children, I would hope he spoils her rotten!"

He grinned, lightly ruffling her hair. "I think a dwarf would be good for you, in all honesty –an' not just because of the height difference."

Her brow rose curiously. "Oh? Why's that?"

"Well, look at the way the lads are treatin' you –like you're their best friend."

"I bring 'em food an' drink all o' the time; of course they would!"

Laughing, he nodded again. "Aye, that's true. But, Baylee…when was the last time that any of our customers –besides the elves an' ol' Will an' Abbot- have treated you with such kindness?"

She thought for a long moment before shrugging. "Rán did, but his whole group was polite." Her fingers unconsciously rose and stroked the choker still clasped around her neck. "Now that I think about it," she murmured, brows furrowing, "I think he actually fancied me."

"Oh, I'm sure he did," Will chuckled, "but he's on his way back t' Dorwinion now."

Another sight left her mouth and she closed her eyes. "Missed that chance…But, I wouldn't want t' live so far away from my family."

"Well…if it makes you feel any better, I'm rather sure one o' the lads fancies you as well."

Baylee suddenly turned around and faced him, her brows furrowed as she locked gazes with him. "Nori said the same thing t' me a few weeks ago," she told him.

"Did he now…?" His brow rose and he felt a bit amused. "Did he tell you which one?"

She shook her head, settling down once more. "No –only that he would have fun watchin' me fret about as I tried t' guess which dwarf it was." Her eyes closed and she tucked her feet under the blanket. At last, she was beginning to feel tired.

"Well…if you're interested…I know which one it is."

"You do?"

"Mhm. Would you like me to tell you?"

No answer.

"Baylee? Don't you want to—" He looked down at his twin, finding her fast asleep in the crook of his arm. Sighing, he rolled his eye and pulled the blanket up to her shoulders. Closing his eyes, he lightly shook his head. He knew that he wouldn't get back to his room tonight; if he were to move, Baylee would wake up. 'You make teasing you so difficult, you know that?' he thought.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Ori was going through his pack for the third time that day, making sure he truly had everything he needed for the journey to Lake Town. Nori and Dwalin had spent the afternoon with him, fretting over him so he wouldn't end up buying cheap supplies or food that would spoil in a few days' time. With a small sigh, he found that his bag was perfectly full and had been untouched since he last checked it an hour ago.

It wasn't his fault that he was so nervous; he would be leaving for Lake Town the next morning. Sighing, he leaned back on his heels and tiredly rubbed his face. The excitement had kept him up the previous night and he wondered how little sleep he would get tonight from it. He knew full well that he would need as much rest as he could get; Baylee had told him that they would go south via the river. That filled his mind with memories of being holed up inside barrels and floated out of Mirkwood –his own barrel had once been filled with sauerkraut, leaving him unable to eat the stuff for some months.

He was so caught up in his thoughts that he didn't hear the knock on the door or the gentle creak of floorboards as someone entered. He did, however, let out a small yelp and spun around as someone set their hand on his shoulder. Seeing that it was only Dwalin, he sighed in relief and rolled his eyes.

"You should have knocked," he scolded, standing upright.

"I did, laddie." His brow rose as he saw how much of a worried mess Ori was. "How much sleep have yeh gotten? Yeh look terrible."

Brushing himself off, Ori pouted. "I've gotten too little, but I promise I'm fine. Just…excited for tomorrow is all." He gave Dwalin a small, reassuring smile. "What do you need?"

"Have a lil' gift for yeh…An' I didn't really want Nori t' see it, lest he tries t' take it from yeh." He chuckled quietly, drawing something from the back of his belt and holding it out to the young dwarf. Opening his hand, Ori saw a masculine-looking ring in his palm that had a decent sized opal resting in the center of it. "It's a poison ring," he informed Ori, a grin coming to his lips. "An' I've already taken the liberty o' puttin' some poison in it for yeh. Just lift the stone an' slip it in yer enemy's drink or dinner an' out they go!"

Despite how disturbed he was at the notion of such a thing existing, Ori laughed. "A poison ring?" he questioned, carefully taking it from him. He looked it over. "Why would I need such a thing, Dwalin?"

He shrugged. "Never know when yer in a situation tha' needs a delicate hand instead o' a nice, bloody axe. Plus…I know yeh like opals an' it was the only one tha' didn't look like it'd grace the hand o' a woman…" His cheeks turned a little pink and he glanced away. "So I thought I'd get it for yeh."

"Was it originally a poison ring or did you modify it?" he questioned, starting to see which finger it would fit on. "Because I can't imagine you going into the thieves guild an' asking for one."

"Jus' because I'm a dwarrow o' the law doesn't mean I don't know where t' get such things," he firmly stated. He blinked as Ori lightly tugged him down by the shoulders and kissed his cheek.

Grinning, Ori could see that Dwalin's cheeks were now deep red. "Thank you."

He shuffled slightly, glancing away. "Yeh know, yer brother is right downstairs…" he murmured.

Still on his tiptoes, Ori wrapped his arms around Dwalin's neck and nuzzled his cheek. "He's down there, not up here, so I don't have t' worry." He kissed his chin. "Anyway, I won't see you for nearly a month, so I'm allowed t' snuggle you a bit."

Realizing that Ori's words were true, Dwalin wrapped his arms around him and grinned. "That is true…" He kissed his forehead, sighing quietly in content. "Don't think either o' us has gone tha' long without seein' the other in a long while."

"Not since the year after the War," he murmured, burying his face in Dwalin's chest, "when you, Bofur, Bifur, Nori, an' Gloin went back to Ered Luin." He let out a quiet sigh, letting his eyes close. "I was so convinced that you'd have a wife when you came back."

His brow rose. "Why would yeh think such a thing?" Easily lifting the younger dwarf, he moved to sit on Ori's bed with him in his lap. He leaned back against the wall, cradling him slightly.

"Because you had become a great hero amongst our people. What dwarrow woman wouldn't want that?" he chuckled. He started to fiddle with Dwalin's beard, combing his fingers through it.

Dwalin grinned, watching him. "Not many, turns out. Guess I'm jus' too scary lookin' for 'em."

"Their loss, my gain."

He let out a laugh, stroking Ori's hair. "Tha's a lad," he murmured, kissing his temple. "Just don't go off findin' yerself a wife while yer away, alright? Tha' includes Baylee."

Ori cocked a brow and slightly rolled his eyes. "If that were t' happen, I'm positive that Bofur would have my head." Dwalin nodded in agreement. "Anyway…I prefer lads. You of all dwarrows should know this. You're the most masculine dwarrow out there."

Dwalin grinned proudly. "Aye, tha' I am," he agreed, his chest puffing out slightly in a prideful manner. He stole a kiss from Ori's lips, holding him closer to him. "An' I'm yer masculine dwarrow."

"That you are." He stole a longer, lingering kiss from Dwalin, his arms snaking around his neck again. "And if someone tries t' steal you from me, they'll meet the edge of your war hammer."

He chuckled. "Now why would I be hittin' 'em?" he mused.

"You wouldn't. I would have taken the hammer from you and smashed them upside the head instead." He smiled innocently despite his violent words, earning a broad smirk from Dwalin.

"Keep talkin' like that, lad, an' yeh'll almost have me convinced yer a warrior."

Ori shrugged lightly before starting to place gentle kiss along Dwalin's neck and shoulders. "I'm content with being a scribe. You need a bit o' gentleness every now 'n then…" His fingers lightly toyed with the buckle to Dwalin's belt.

Sighing quietly, Dwalin closed his eyes and tilted his head back against the wall, enjoying Ori's kisses. His hands rested atop his hips, holding him in a light, but protective hold. He was half tempted to go with the group tomorrow, but knew better. This was something Ori had wanted to do on his own and he wasn't about to argue against that; the lad needed to get a sense of independence.

He let out a quiet grunt and opened his eyes in shock as he felt Ori's bare hands sliding along his chest. Looking down, he saw that he had managed to undo his belt and had pushed up his shirt and tunic. Ori smiled innocently, though that same innocence was missing from his mischievous brown eyes. Dwalin grinned, tilting his head up and kissing him deeply.

~*~

Meanwhile, downstairs, Demelza was doing her best to remind Baylee of everything she needed to keep track of while away from home. "Now remember, you'll need t' pack more food for the journey back then what we're packin' for the journey down. You'll have to eat sparingly, so you may get a bit hungry-"

"Demelza, love –Baylee's made this sort o' journey before. Stop hassling her." Richard laughed. He tucked a handkerchief into the pocket of his pack.

Demelza pursed her lips as she looked at her husband. "Not by herself she hasn't!" she argued.

"She's not goin' t' be by herself," Warren chortled from across the room. "Richard an' Ori are goin' t' be with her, as well as Osvald, Tamás, Stigg, an' many others she knows."

Baylee cocked her brow as she sat on the floor of the family's private quarters, her back resting against the wall. "An' it's not like I don't know what the lands are like; we had t' live in 'em for a couple o' months, remember?" She stretched her legs out, adjusting her boots slightly with a frown; the straps for the buckles were worn out and getting too loose. She'd have to cut a new hole into them soon.

Demelza sighed. "I know, I know…it's just…" She shook her head. "Truth be told, Baylee, I never expected you to be the sort to want to go on an adventure."

Richard laughed. "Adventure? Love, this is just a trip to Lake Town. She's made it before a couple of years ago!"

"Yes, but now that the lands are filled with raiders, you never know what will happen!" she argued. "I'm just lookin' out for her."

Warren cocked his brow. "We all are –that's why I made her start sparrin' with you again."

"Which, I'm getting' better, by the way!" Baylee quickly added. "I can get three or four wins in against Mister Dwalin now."

Richard quietly laughed. "Only if you hit him in the family jewels."

She pouted. "That was an accident!" She watched as Demelza started to go through her pack for the fourth time that day and she sighed. Rising to her feet, she brushed her backside off before grabbing the bag from her aunt. "It hasn't changed since you packed it this morning, auntie." She gave her a reassuring smile as she slung it over her shoulder. "I'll be fine, I promise."

With a resigned sigh, Demelza nodded and rose from her chair, pulling her niece to her in a tight hug. "You had better," she warned, her tone firm. "Because if you're not…Nienna help me, I will tan your hide!"

Baylee, her uncle, and her father cracked up. "Ya act like I'm venturin' over the Misty Mountains!" she giggled, pulling back. "It's just a journey t' Lake Town. How bad can it get?"

Demelza raised her brow and gave her a knowing look. "Do you really want an answer to that?"

"Auntie…I'll be surrounded by big, strong men in armor with sharp spears," she chuckled. "We will be fine. Now may I go eat dinner? Galiene will have my head if I don't get a good meal in me before the mornin'."

With a pout, Demelza kissed her forehead and nodded. "Go one then. Be sure t' say goodbye before you leave in the morning, alright? I know you'll be leavin' with the sun."

As Baylee left the private quarters, she heard her father lightly scolding her aunt and she chuckled. Closing the door behind her, she let out a small, weary sigh and leaned against the wall. 'I didn't know she would get so worked up over this,' she thought, closing her eyes for a moment. 'She's acting like this is another Battle of Five Armies.'

She jumped as, for a brief second, the image of a snarling orc filled her mind.

Swallowing hard, she walked down the hall and rounded the corner. The common room was fairly empty tonight, with only about fifteen customers. She knew Nori and Bifur were off in the bathing room but where Dwalin and Ori were off to, she couldn't guess. That left Bofur by his lonesome with a mug of ale and some pieces of wood he was whittling. She noticed that his hat was mysteriously missing; she had only seen him without it twice.

Her brow rose as she ducked into the kitchen. "Wenna, have any o' the dwarves eaten yet?" she asked the younger maid.

"Bofur's the only one who hasn't," she replied. "He just got here 'bout twenty minutes ago," she replied as she warmed herself some bread and cheese by the hearth.

"Alright. Thank ya," she smiled, grabbing two bowls. She filled them to the brim with stew and grabbed some bread off the shelf. All the while, Galiene watched her, making sure she put enough food on her tray for two people.

Galiene pointed at a pan on the counter. "There's some stuffed mushrooms in tha'," she told her. "Take some o' them. An' the roasted apples!"

Soon enough, Baylee was setting the tray down in front of Bofur, startling him slightly. He looked up with a tired smile and leaned back in his seat, scooping the bits of wood into his palm before tossing them into the fire. Baylee, meanwhile, set out the plates and bowls food before them.

"Evenin', Baylee," he smiled. "What's all this?"

"Our dinner," she replied, setting a bowl of stew in front of him. She gave him a warm smile as she sat down on the stool normally occupied by Ori, not caring that, since it was the tallest, it made her knees scrape across the table's bottom. "Hope ya don't mind; it's too warm for me t' eat in the kitchen."

He shook his head, pigtails swaying slightly. "Don't mind at all." He tucked his carving knife into his belt and set aside the figures he was working on, wearing a large grin as he looked at the stew. It was unlike many he had seen before, being white in color instead of the usual red or brow. "Chicken stew?" he asked, his head cocked to the side.

"Aye," she chuckled. "Galiene thought it's time t' start makin' some lighter fare since spring's here." She speared a mushroom with her knife before taking a bite out of it.

"Ah, good idea," he said with a small chuckle. "Don't want t' have bellies full o' heavy food when it's goin' t' be hotter 'n a furnace outside." Dipping his spoon into the stew, he took a bite out of it.

Baylee quietly giggled as she watched his brows rise. "I take it ya like it then?" she teased as he started to shovel it into his mouth.

"It's very good," he replied between bites. "I've never heard o' chicken stew, so this is a pleasant surprise for me!"

She stared at him. "You've never had chicken stew?! It's a staple 'round here durin' the summer!"

He chuckled. "I guess us dwarrows never thought o' usin' chicken in such a way. It's quite good though; I'll have t' tell Bombur an' Gerdi about it next time I got t' Erebor."

Taking a drink from her mug, she licked the foam from her upper lip. "Ya mention your brother a lot whenever there's food. Is he a sort o' cook then?"

"Oh…You could say that. He's quite good in the kitchen, but it's his wife who's the real cook," he chuckled. "Bombur's more o' a food…aficionado." He bent his arms and held them out to his sides before making a bit of a waddling motion, earning a giggle from the human.

"Ah, I see," she chuckled. "Galiene's sister is like that. Rightly so, though –she cooks for the king."

Nodding in understanding, he was about to grab some of the mushrooms with his bare hand, but stopped himself. Instead, he grabbed up his knife and speared just one, not wanting to use dwarvish manners in front of Baylee –even though she was used to them by now. "You've got many cousins?" he inquired.

She shook her head. "Just four. One o' them lives up here while the rest are in Lake Town…An' you've reminded me tha' I was supposed t' buy some toys from you for their children, but it slipped my mind." She shrugged lightly. "Oh well."

Bofur's eyes widened as he halted in the middle of biting a mushroom. He let it plop into his stew as he glanced up at her. "I can take ya t' the shop after dinner an' you can get some," he told her quickly.

"I wouldn't want t' trouble you," she replied, knifing a roasted apple and pulling it onto her plate. She started to slice it open, watching as bits of cheddar and mashed apple oozed out.

"Oh, it wouldn't be any trouble," he assured her. "I actually left my hat back at the shop, so it'd be doin' myself a favor as well."

Her cheeks turned a little pink and she nodded. "Alright then," she shyly told him. "But onl' if it's really no trouble."

He smiled rather handsomely as he chewed some more of the chicken stew. After swallowing, he reached for his mug. "No trouble at all, I promise t' you." In all honesty, he didn't really need his hat, but he wanted to help Baylee out. She had helped him and Bifur out so much…It was his turn to do a little something for her, even if it was just toys.

 

Within the hour, he was leading her through the darkening streets. As they approached the shop, he pulled out a heavy iron key and unlocked the door to the shop and stepped aside as he opened the door, beckoning her inside first. She thanked him and entered.

"It's a bit dark thanks t' it bein' near dusk," he admitted, "so if you want me t' light any candles-"

"No, it's fine," she smiled. "I know exactly what I wanted to get." As she spoke, she walked easily through the dark room to one of the shelves where the rolling animals were.

He watched her as she went about the store, picking out the toys she wanted to buy without needing any assistance. "How do ya do that?" he asked, brows furrowed in amazement.

She shrugged, hopping slightly to grab one of the kites. "I've a weird memory, remember?" Glancing over her shoulder, she smiled at him and Bofur felt himself go red in the face.

"Oh, aye…that's right…" He chuckled quietly and shook his head. "I'll be right back; just need t' grab my hat."

"Alright," she told him, crossing the room again.

Needing more caution than Baylee, he made his way to the backroom. He squinted and peered through the dark area, looking for the dark, oddly shaped mass that would be his hat. However, it was not to be found.

"Now where did you go?" he muttered, starting up the stairs. The second floor was better lit thanks to its west-facing windows, so with a cursory glimpse around the room, he could see that his hat was not in the workshop section. He went to check in the bedroom, where the unmade beds sat, still needing their sheets and blankets. "Where in Mahal's name-"

"Bofur?"

He hurried to the top of the stairs, able to see Baylee below –she was grinning and wearing his hat. "Found your hat," she chirped. "It's quite warm; I can see why ya wear it."

A relieved laugh left his mouth. "Where was it?" he asked, starting down the stairs.

"I'm not too sure; it sort o' fell atop my head went I knelt down to pick up a book I dropped." She smiled up at him as he stopped two stairs up, leading him a full head taller than her. Tilting her head forward, she waited for him to take it from her.

"Odd. I could have sworn I left it in the backroom," he mused, plucking it from atop her head. "Did ya find everything you'll be needing t' spoil some wee ones?"

She nodded, walking back into the main room. "An' then some. I had t' get a lil' something for Galiene." She pointed at one of the rolling, head-bobbing chicken toys.

"Funny," he grinned. "Nori bought one o' those for Dori this afternoon."

"Did he now?" Bofur nodded, counting up the amount of coin she would need to purchase the various toys and the book. "Well, Dori was a bit…mother hen-like from what I remember. Galiene, on the other hand, just likes the way they move when they walk."

"They do have a funny way about them," he grinned. "Two gold an' fifteen silver," he told her. In truth, a normal customer would pay about four gold…but she didn't have to know that.

"Wow," she blinked. "So little for so much…" Pulling out her coin purse, she started to sort out the amount needed.

He casually shrugged. "What can I say? Bifur 'n me like t' have low prices," he told her. While she counted out her money, he put the toys into the basket she had brought. "After all, children don't make too much money an' they like t' buy toys."

Sliding the seventeen coins towards him, a warm smile came to her lips. "That's sweet. Your nieces 'n nephews must adore the two o' you."

Again, he shrugged and smirked. "Let's just say that those tykes are a wee bit spoiled because o' us." He quietly laughed as he tucked the coins under the counter; he'd put them in the lockbox tomorrow.

"Thank-you again for doin' this, Bofur," she told him as they left the shop.

He dismissively waved his hand while locking the door. "Ah, don't mention it." He turned the key a few times before he heard the familiar click of the lock going into place.

Biting the inside of her cheek, Baylee shyly leaned over and kissed his cheek. "It was still sweet o' you."


	13. Chapter 13

Ori quietly groaned, curled up in the center of the raft. His stomach was swaying back and forth with the movement of the raft, leaving him feeling very much like he was ready to throw up. Resting his head on Baylee's lap, he was doing his best to take small drinks from a flask of warm tea that Richard had made for him that morning that was supposed to help ease his stomach. It was working, albeit slowly.

"How're ya feelin', lad?" Baylee asked. She had her back resting against the mast of the raft as she comfortingly stroked his hair.

"A little better," he groaned.

"You're lookin' less green."

He scrunched his nose up. "I don't like green…"

She quietly chuckled. "I know you don't." Looking around, she could see that most everyone on the raft was sitting idly, enjoying the voyage downriver. In just two days, the scenery had turned from the light green, new growth of Dale to the deep green, semi-forested growth of the outskirts of Lake Town's lands. Farms could be spotted in the distance, their neat fields resembling lakes of green.

"This tea is helping a bit, though," he told her. "I think I'll be able to sit up soon."

Nodding, Baylee tilted her head back, enjoying the warmth of the sun on her skin. "Take your time, lad. There's no real need for ya t' sit up anyway."

"Until it's our turn to take over the rudder." He opened his eyes, wincing against the bright sunlight. Rolling onto his side, he opened the flask of medicinal tea and took a small gulp. The tea warmed his stomach and he felt a bit more strength return to his body while his stomach eased a bit more. "I don't really know how you manage to steer these things with just a little paddle."

A playful grin came to her lips. "That's because I grew up on a lake with streams an' rivers feedin' it –not inside a mountain." She reached into her pack and pulled out a biscuit, nibbling at it. "So that could explain why you're also feelin' sick an' the rest of us aren't."

His brow rose slightly. "You felt a bit queasy the first day…"

"That I did. But I got acclimated pretty fast because I grew up on the water."

Ori tilted his head slightly and gave her an odd look. "You've a rather broad vocabulary for an inn maid."

She lightly shrugged. "I guess it's because I overhear so many things while in the Tankard," she explained. "I try t' make sure I ask papa or Galiene what they mean, though, so I don't use them incorrectly –unlike Will." A quietly laugh left her mouth. "He once made a fool out o' himself when we were younger because he didn't check with someone about the meanin' o' a word."

"What word?"

Giggling as she remembered the scene, Baylee lightly shook her head. "Conceive. He confused it for 'convince'…I don't blame him –we were only eleven."

"How did he use it?" Ori chuckled.

"Told our mom t' give him one good reason that 'would conceive him to eat his vegetables'."

At that, Ori cracked up. "Oh dear…What did your mum do?"

"Stared at him before she fell over laughin'," she grinned. "Papa ended up spittin' his ale all over me."

Ori continued to laugh, more color returning to his cheeks. "What a waste of good ale!"

Baylee cracked up as well. "Aye, it was –all over my face an' clothes…but Will didn't hear the end o' it for a week after that lil' mess up."

"Well, such things happen when someone misuses a word in a funny way. I learned that while growin' up. I did a lot of readin' and Dori didn't always know the meaning of a word, so…sometimes it had to be Balin correcting me."

She nodded in understanding. "I know how tha' goes," she smiled. "An' I see you're feelin' much better now –you're sittin' up."

He blinked, having not noticed that he had done such. His cheeks flushed a bit pink in embarrassment, but he smiled. "I guess so. They do say laughter's the best medicine, after all." He shifted in his spot and brushed a braid from his face. "It's been lovely weather, hasn't it? I'm surprised it hasn't tried to rain on us." He took a final drink from the flask.

"Me too, actually." She looked up at the sky. "Wait until you see Lake Town…it's much prettier since it's been rebuilt…An' the current Master o' the city was smart an' used stone in the rebuildin' so it's not all flammable wood."

"That's always a good thing. I remember it a bit from my first time there with the Company, but it's only fragments."

Her nose scrunched up slightly. "Ah, yes…With the old Master, things weren't exactly the best. He was a bit greedy, always raising taxes an' dressin' himself in imported clothes." She shook her head. "The new one is much better."

"That's good…Is Lake Town much greener in spring than it is in late fall?"

She nodded vigorously. "Aye, it is!" she chirped. "Well, not so much green as it is colorful. Like Dale, it's got flowers everywhere, so there are bursts o' purple an' blue an' red an' yellow…" A fond smile came to her lips. "When I was a lass, Will an' I had a nurse who'd watch us while mum an' papa were at the inn. She had the most gorgeous sunflowers growin' in her window boxers –they got so big, they were taller 'n papa!"

He tilted his head curiously. "Sunflowers?"

She cocked her head to the other side. "Have you never seen a sunflower?" She popped another bit of her biscuit into her mouth. Someone called out a warning to her and she quickly closed her eyes; she had fast learned that being the only female in a group of twenty men meant that she constantly had to avert her vision when they needed to empty their bladders.

He shook his head. "No. I…haven't gotten much chance to leave the mountains until now."

"Ahh. Well, sunflowers are these big, yellow flowers –they can get bigger than my head even! They're some o' my favorites, though the part where bees like t' get nectar an' where their seeds form sort o'…gives me the willies on the bigger flowers." She shrugged lightly. "But I find 'em really pretty nonetheless."

"Why does the seed part scare you?"

"It just looks…odd t' me. Not a good odd." She shrugged and finished her biscuit. "It makes good seeds, though. I like t' roast them with some honey or put them in ca—" A curse left her mouth as she toppled over; the raft had suddenly lurched to the side.

Richard, who had been napping nearby, frowned and sat up. "What's going on?" he called. Baylee was surprised to hear her uncle use so loud a voice; he had always been so soft-spoken.

"Sorry!" the navigator called. "With the river bein' so swollen, I can't really see any hidden rocks!"

"Then those at the front, keep your eyes out!" one of the soldiers ordered. "We can't have the rafts gettin' wre-" He cursed as the raft started to lurch back and forth and was tossed about. "Rapids!"

Ori looked at Baylee, seeing a frown on her face. "What? What's going on?" he asked worriedly.

She swallowed hard. "It means we're going t' have t' hold on tight an' hope you don't throw up."

"I don't like the sound of that…"

Staying on her knees and gripping one of the ropes that held the raft together, she gently pushed Ori towards the mast. "Hold onto tha'," she instructed as they were tossed about. "An' don't let go until I tell you."

He nodded, swallowing hard; he did not like the fact that everyone was scrambling to hold onto the ropes of the raft or the fact that the water was sloshing up onto the raft. "How bad is this situation?"

"Don't know; this river doesn't normally have rapids –but things change when the winter's been so wet." She winced as a large man toppled against her. He tried to apologize, but he was sent flying to the other side.

Ori clung onto the mast for dear life, his eyes clenched shut. He could hear yells as men were tossed about; they were trying to warn the men in the raft behind them. His stomach was not enjoying the violent tossing of the rapids; he was certain that he would have thrown up if his stomach had anything in it. Someone slammed into his leg and, by the masculine grunt, he guessed it to be Richard.

Just as soon as they had started, the rapids started to die down –but not before tossing one of the men into the water. Ori cracked open his eye just in time to watch a blue of yellow dive into the water. Both his eyes shot open as he tried to lunge after Baylee to stop her, but he ended up falling atop Richard, who had also been trying to stop her.

Baylee shivered as the icy water enveloped her. Despite all urges to gasp, she forced her mouth to stay shut as she swam after the fallen man, who was some ways ahead of her, having been carried off by the current. This same current was propelling her towards him though it seemed that he was caught on something. Even though she couldn't see his face, she knew he was panicking; he was flailing as he tried to free himself, but it was futile.

Her lungs burning, she moved to the surface and took in a deep breath before diving once more. With strong strokes of her arms, she brought herself to the bottom of the river, where the man was stuck. Grabbing onto his arm, she used him as an anchor to keep herself from floating away. Almost instantly, she could see how he was stuck: His trousers were caught on the branch of a sunken tree. She reached down and tugged roughly on the trousers, feeling them rip.

She started to panic a bit when she noticed that the man had gone limp. Before they could float too far off, she wrapped her arm around his torso and kicked off from the bottom. As her head broke the surface, she gasped, gulping in a breath of air before the man's body dragged her back under before letting her surface again like a bad buoy.

"Baylee! Over here!"

Looking over her shoulder, she could see the rafts some ways ahead of them. She started to swim towards them with some difficulty; not only was the man heavy, but she was getting cold from the water. To her relief, though, the current brought her to the rafts soon enough. Passing the man up to a soldier, she clung onto the side of the raft like a wet rat, her teeth chattering.

"H-He's n-not b-breathin'," she told them.

One of the healers rushed forward, taking charge of the man. Teeth chattering and body shaking violently, Baylee watched, wide-eyed, as the healer pushed down on the man's chest three times before pausing and breathing into the man's mouth. This technique was common amongst the healers of Lake Town; it worked to expel water from the lungs as well as put fresh air into them. Most of the time, the victims were able to be brought back if they were saved quickly –but there were always those who were not able to be saved.

After what seemed like forever, the man started to hack and cough. The healer rolled him onto the side as water started forcing its way out of his mouth and Baylee managed a shaky sigh of relief. It was then that someone grabbed the back of her tunic and yanked her out of the water. Looking up, she saw her uncle frowning.

"Are you crazy?" he scolded, peeling her tunic from her torso and tossing it on the floor of the raft. With his niece left in just an under shirt, he wrapped multiple cloaks around her before forcing his flask into her hand. "Drink this; it's tea with a bit of whiskey in it. Ori, could ya wring her tunic out?"

Baylee fumbled to get the flask open, but managed after a few seconds. She was more than a little scared to find that the tips of her fingers had started to turn blue. The tea burned her mouth and throat as it went down, but when it filled her stomach, she welcomed its warmth.

"You could have died, Baylee," Richard told her, his tone firm, but gentle. "You should have let a bigger man go after him."

"I w-w-wasn't th-thinkin'," she mumbled, huddled under the cloaks. She clenched her eyes shut as he started to use his own cloak to towel her hair off. "I j-just had t-t' save him."

He sighed and nodded in understanding. "It was still risky of you. What if ya hadn't been able t' bring him up?"

"I d-don't w-want t-t' th-think ab-bout it." She took another gulp from his flask, able to taste the bit of whiskey in it. "I w-was s-scared enough t-t' th-think I hadn't g-gotten him in t-time."

Richard sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Let's…not tell your father and brother about this, alright? If they knew this happened, I highly doubt Warren would ever allow you out of his sight." He gave her a weary smile.

She half-heartedly returned it as Ori came to sit beside her. He looked at her worriedly as he clutched her wrung-out tunic. "Are you going to be alright?" he asked her.

"She'll be fine once she warms up a bit," Richard reassured him. "And keeps drinking her tea." He gave Baylee a sharp look and she quickly took another drink of the tea.

~*~

They reached Lake Town before noon the next day, which was many hours ahead of what they planned. The group arrived to the sight of the city in full bloom. Ori was surprised to see so many flower bushes lining the walls of the city, their tendril-like vines reaching down into the water. The city's foundations, from what he could see, were made of a mixture of worked stone and wood. The buildings, too, seemed to be mixtures of wood and stone with roofs of red clay tiles like the ones in Dale.

As their rafts were brought to dock, Ori found himself gawking at the city. When he had visited Lake Town five years prior, the city had been made entirely out of wood and looked rather dreary thanks to it being late autumn. But now…now it rivaled Dale for beauty. He stumbled forward as the men started to leave the raft. Baylee caught him before he could fall, chuckling quietly.

"Careful there," she told him. She looked exhausted from the previous day's adventure, but she still wore a smile. "An' careful when ya get off –your legs may be a big wobbly at first."

He nodded in understanding and helped her off of the raft. Taking caution, he hopped from raft to dock, finding that his legs were only slightly jelly-like. Baylee watched him with an amused smile before leading him off towards Richard.

"Now it's off t' my cousin's inn," she told Ori. "It's not as nice as the Tankard, but I am a bit biased when it comes t' inns."

"Understandable," he chuckled. "What's this one's name?"

"It's called the High Tide," Richard answered. "It's about twice the size of the Tankard, but with Lake Town being as big as it is, the space is needed."

Ori cocked his head. "I thought Lake Town got smaller when people moved to Dale?"

"For a few years," Baylee explained, "but then folk from Dorwinion heard 'bout the rebuilding o' the two cities an' a lot of them moved up here so they could help." As they walked up the docks and entered the city proper, she let out a small, reminiscent sigh. "All the streets are different, though…When I was younger, I could practically walk around blindfolded."

Richard raised his brow. "Except you'd bump into people or get trampled by carts."

"A small price t' pay…" She looked around the town. "I wonder if Lovisa's here or off huntin'?"

"We'll see when we get to the inn."

"Who, exactly, is this Lovisa you keep mentioning?" Ori inquired. "I've heard ya mention her a few times but I only know that she was once your nurse."

Baylee chuckled. "She's a half-dwarf," she told him. "An' she's a huntress. Supplies my cousins with venison and rabbit, mostly…she sometimes brings back a deer or elk for a person if they pay her well enough."

"Half-dwarf?" He stared at her incredulously. "There's really a half-dwarf around here?"

She rubbed the back of her neck. "I take it they're not that rare even in areas heavily populated by dwarves…?"

He nodded. "It's uncommon because well…most dwarves don't really consider humans 'worthy' o' being with a dwarf, let alone bearing children with them."

Richard nodded in agreement. "It's because humans aren't hardy enough for the tastes of most dwarves, but it's not unheard of –like how there are half elves in the world."

"Ahh," she murmured in understanding. "Oh –two things ya need t' know about Lovisa should we meet her. One is tha' she's mute an' uses a sort o' finger-signing language-"

"That she taught to you an' Will." Ori grinned as he saw that he had managed to confuse the woman. "He told us. Turns out the language is Iglishmêk, which almost all dwarves know."

"Oh! I've been wonderin' how he an' Bifur have been able t' have conversations lately. I mean offense t' Bifur o' course, but…we just don't understand Khuzdul."

He chuckled. "Which is entirely fine. So, what's the other thing I need t' know about this Lovisa?"

"She's…affectionate. Basically, if you're a friend t' me or Will, she considers you a friend too."

Richard laughed. "To put it simply: If she sees you with Baylee, you'll end up getting hugged by her."

"Well, that doesn't sound so bad," he chuckled. "Hugs are always a good thing, aren't they?"

"So long as you're taller than her," Baylee giggled.

He raised his brow curiously. "What do you mean?"

"You'll find out if we see her."

Richard led Baylee through bustling streets filled with humans and, to their surprise, elves. They knew well enough that the elves liked to visit the town, but the amount of elves they were seeing was far more than normal. Ori shook his head; if they talked to any elves, he would be polite, but he could recognize some of them from his time being locked up in Thranduil's halls. Shaking his head, he moved closer to Baylee as a large wagon rolled by, doing his best to not get caught under it.

Soon, they came into the center of the city where there was even more people. Ori and Baylee were just barely able to see the tops of colorful tents lining the sides of the square. Baylee stood on tiptoe in an attempt to see past the backs and shoulders that blocked her vision. Richard chuckled at her, shaking his head.

"Will should have come. He could have carried you on his shoulders," he teased.

She pouted. "I can get by just fine!" she indignantly told him. "Anyway, it's not like we didn't live here five years ago…"

Ori quietly laughed at her pouting. "But even you admitted that it's changed quite a bit," he replied. "And it's obvious you're quite in awe as well…standing on your tiptoes and craning your neck…"

Her cheeks turned pink and she grinned. "Oh shush," she told him, giving him a light shove.

"There's the Tide," Richard told them, catching their attention.

Ori gawked at the large building. Just as they had told them, the inn was twice as big as the Full Tankard, being about five stories instead of three. It was painted a crisp, stark white with the frames of the windows and the doors being painted in a bright red. The ground floor windows also had bright red window boxes filled with flowers that were spilling over their containers and dangling towards the ground. As they came closer, he could see that the inn yard was also quite large and filled with carts and people hurrying about.

As they entered the building, his nose was greeted by the smells of ale, stew, baking bread, and tobacco smoke. The common room was brightly lit thanks to the open windows and he could see that the chairs all had cushions on them. He would have observed more if a woman hadn't called out and rushed out from behind the bar, her arms flung wide open as she rushed at Richard and Baylee.

"Father! Baylee!" she grinned, pulling them both into a tight hug. "This is such a surprise! When did ya get in?"

"Just ten minutes ago," Richard smiled, hugging his daughter tightly. "We wanted to surprise you lot."

The woman grinned, practically lifting Baylee off of her feet when she hugged her. Ori saw that she bore more resemblance to her father than to Demelza, though her hair was a deep, coppery red. He wondered if Richard's hair had once been that color. "Surprise us ya two did!" she chuckled. Setting Baylee back on the ground, she smiled tenderly. "Baylee, you're lookin' more an' more like your mother every time I see you." From the corner of her eye, she saw Ori standing beside them and tilted her head. "And who's this lad?" she asked with a smile.

"Ori, at your service," he chirped, giving a quick bow.

"An' Eira Harrison at yours," she chuckled, giving him a small curtsey. She glanced at Baylee. "A friend o' yours, lass?"

She nodded, smiling. "Aye, that he is," she replied, "I'm goin' to show him around the town while he's here, show him what Dale will be like in a few years."

Ori turned a little pink as he shifted. "Dale's already quite a bit like Lake Town from what I've seen."

Eira let out a small laugh. "Well, a friend o' Baylee's is a friend t' us," she told the dwarf.

Richard looked around at the common room, finding it moderately full. "I see you've still got a fair amount of business," he told her. "I'm glad."

Eira nodded, her hands resting on her hips now. "Aye, though a new inn recently opened up just a few blocks down from here. At first, they stole some o' our patrons, but we won 'em back." She grinned cheekily. "Now –I know you three must be hungry an' the wee tykes will be upset if I don't bring ya back t' see them. Come along!" She ushered the three of them forward, past the common room and its guests and to the very back of the inn where she led them through a door into the private quarters.

At first, things were quiet. Baylee, Richard, and Ori set their packs down against the wall by the door where they wouldn't be in the way while Eira walked into a different room. Soon, though, there was a small stampede and the cries of three children racing for 'Gwampa' and 'Baywee'. Richard and Baylee grinned, kneeling down to scoop up the children. Behind them came Eira and another woman, her hair long and black and an infant held in her arms.

"Well, I'm sad that they aren't at all pleased t' see us," Baylee giggled. She was kept pinned to the ground by the two boys, who appeared to be the same age. "Tollak! Isak! C'mon, lads, let me stand, aye?"

The eldest of the children, a girl named Grethe, giggled from her grandfather's arms. "Once they getcha pinned down, they're not goin' t' let you up," she told her cousin.

Baylee cocked her brow before hoisting both boys over her shoulders and managing to stand up. They cried out in surprise and squirmed, but laughed nonetheless. "It's a good thing that they're lighter than a sack o' flour then," she grinned.

Within half an hour, Baylee had introduced Ori to everyone and they were sitting around a large, round table that Eira and two of the inn maids had piled tall with food. Ori had come to learn that the children were Grethe, Isak, Tollak, and Annina –Annina being the youngest as just six months- and that the mother of Tollak and Annina was named Elle. She was married to Richard's son, Mats, who was currently on patrol around the city, as he was a member of the city guard.

The food, he found, was just as good as Galiene's. He happily munched away on some mushrooms stewed in wine while Baylee sat beside him, Annina on her lap. The infant was constantly getting distracted from her cousin's playing by the dwarf, her wide, brown eyes watching as he did his best to use his manners around the group of humans. Spotting her staring at him, he blinked before covering his face with his hands. She made a confused noise only to let out a small giggle as he pulled his hands away, saying 'Boo!' as he did so.

Baylee grinned. "I think you've got her entranced," she teased as Ori continued to play peek-a-boo with her.

"Babies are easy to amuse," he smiled. He covered his face again, but this time when he pulled his hands away, he had crossed his eyes and stuck his tongue. Annina leaned forward on Baylee's lap, her hands reaching for his tongue –or beard. Either worked for the infant. "Ah, I don't think you really want these," he chuckled, holding up his index fingers for her to play with instead.

While Annina busied herself with figuring out what Ori's knitted gloves were, Baylee ate some of her lunch. "I'm surprised her grandpa isn't the one holdin' her," she chuckled, glancing at Richard.

He glanced up from his lunch, his brow slightly raised. "I assure you that I will be holding her quite a bit after lunch," he chuckled. "Anyway, she's quite enamored by Ori at the moment. Let her get her fill of him before she's forced to spend the rest of the day with me."

Eira snorted at his words. "Oh, you make it sound like it's such a chore to be around you, father," she mused. "I'm sure she'll enjoy every minute of it." Popping a bit of toasted bread into her mouth, she took a drink of some apple juice. "So how was your trip down here? Not too eventful, I hope." Her brow rose as she saw the three guests exchange identical looks.

"From the lack of instant replies," Elle chuckled, "I think it was more eventful than what they had wanted."

Baylee leaned back and shifted Annina on her knee. "Not too eventful. We ran into some rough spots on the river yesterday, but that's about it."

"And Baylee decided to go for an early swim," Richard dryly added, making his niece's cheeks darken in embarrassment.

"That doesn't sound good," Grethe commented. She reached across the table, trying to steal a sweet roll before her plate had been cleared of her proper lunch. Seeing this, Eira leaned forward and scooted the plate out of her daughter's reach. "But mama!"

Eira cocked her brow. "You eat your lunch, young lady." Ignoring the pout from her, Eira shook her head. "What happened that made you go swimmin', eh?"

"We hit some rapids," Richard explained. "We couldn't have known that the river had gained some, but they weren't too horrible. Though, one man got knocked off of the raft…"

Elle and Eira nodded slowly, both going 'Ahhh'. "And lil' Baylee dove in to rescue him," Elle chuckled, seeing her father-in-law nod. She reached over and ruffled Baylee's hair. "I'm glad to hear you're still a good swimmer. I wouldn't think ya got much chance t' go swimming in Dale."

"I don't, really," Baylee told her, "but swimming's something I never really forgot how t' do." She smiled sheepishly before having her hair suddenly yanked on by Annina. "Ow, ow…child, my hair is not something for you to chew on…" She winced, gently trying to pry her hair from Annina's grip only to earn protesting grunts from the infant –then again the grunts could also be her filling her diaper. It was hard to tell.

"She's always busy making sure us dwarves have our tankards filled to the brim or that Bifur and Bofur are gettin' a proper lunch," Ori added, moving to help Baylee in the fight to free her hair.

Rising to her feet, Elle walked over and managed to get Annina to relinquish her grip. She also relieved Baylee of her burden so that she could eat properly. "Baylee's a worrywart like that," she smiled. The look dimmed slightly as she caught whiff of a stink. "Pardon us. This little lady needs her butt changed."

~*~

As the sun was starting to dip under the western horizon, Baylee and Ori found themselves standing atop the inn, where there was a large, open area with railings that overlooked the town. Both held claw mugs in their hands, Ori's filled with beer and Baylee's with tea. She rested her elbow on the railing, her eyes darting about she took in the sights of her former home. Ori, however, had his back against the rail as he slowly sipped his alcohol. He glanced up at Baylee, chuckling as he watched her cover a yawn.

"You've a pleasant family," he told her when the silence between them had grown long enough. "Your little cousins are…amusing, to say the least." He was referring to a short-lived wrestling match that he had gotten in with the two lads. Of course, he had pretended to be much weaker than them for their sake.

"They can be a bit o' a handful," she chuckled. "I hope Tollak didn't hurt anythin' o' yours when he landed on your pack."

He shook his head. "I'm sure he didn't do any damage. I made sure to not pack anything fragile."

She tilted her head. "What about your pencils?"

"I've got them in a case, so there's no worry about them. If anything, it was my drawing book that I was worried about, but tha' was yesterday." He gave her a reassure smile. "I can tell you're still tired from that incident."

A quiet laugh left her mouth. "Aye, I'm tired, but I'll be fine." She took a drink from her tea. "Some more o' this stuff, a nice dinner, an' I'll be tucking in early. That should do well t' make up for any rest I've missed." Squinting, she peered down through the bright, orange-red light at the street, her eyes fixing on someone walking towards the inn, a pony being led behind them. It was hard to see them, but from what she could make out, the pony had a burden of large saddlebags. Shrugging, she turned around, resting her back on the rail as well.

"You better," he lightly scolded. "I can't have you falling asleep when you show me around the city." She just barely caught sight of the playful grin he wore before he drank more beer.

"Have I become your guide then?" she laughed. She slid down and sat cross-legged on the floor. He nodded. "Well, I told ya earlier that I don't know it nearly as well as I used to." Her hand rose, covering her mouth as she yawned a second time.

Ori shook his head. "If I had any authority over you, I'd make you go t' bed right now," he told her.

"So I'm the guide an' you're the nanny?" she giggled. "Shouldn't it be the other way around?"

He grinned. "If ever you go to Erebor, I'm sure it will be. And Dwalin will be the bodyguard, of course, and Nori…Well, maybe he can pull us along in a cart."

She giggled again. "That should be Dwalin's job, lad. He's stronger than Nori."

"Ah, but he's not as strong as Dori, believe it or not."

Her brows furrowed slightly. "Really? But he's so…cuddly lookin'."

Ori cracked up. "You think he looks cuddly?"

"Well, it helps he has the appearance o' a mother hen!" Ori only laughed harder. "An' in his defense, all o' you but Dwalin look cuddly. Dwalin…well…" She shrugged. "You're braver 'n me for snuggling him."

His cheeks flared red and he glanced away. "Once you get his knuckledusters off, he's not so mean looking…"

She grinned. "Still, I would rather not snuggle him if given the choice. Anyway," she shrugged, taking a sip of her tea, "he's yours."

He opened his mouth, ready to throw a witty retort at her, but the door to the upper deck opened and Baylee let out a small squeal. Left slightly startled, he watched as she jumped to her feet and raced forward before realizing that whoever had come to join them was doing the same. Shielding his eyes against the dying sunlight, he was able to see that the newcomer was a woman barely three inches taller than Baylee, but she was much curvier. Judging by the well-kept facial hair along her jaw, Ori guessed her to be Lovisa.

Turning slightly, he was able to better shade his eyes and his jaw almost fell slack. When he had heard that she was a half dwarf, he had been expecting a human woman with a beard –not a very attractive sight, even for dwarves. Lovisa, however, was quite beautiful. She looked to be no older than her late thirties and her face heart-shaped, which the snowy-white hairs of her sideburns and slight beard helped to accentuate. In contrast to her light hair, her skin was a deep golden color from the years she had spent out in the wide fields and forests surrounding Lake Town. Her clothing was simple and dyed to match the forest colors of green, brown, and grey, though he was able to see hints of blood-red under her various layers.

Never before had he wanted to draw someone so badly.

'She looks as if she were part elf, not part human,' he thought, managing to keep himself composed. 'I know I'm into lads, but if ever I had to have a wife, I hope that she looked like this woman…' He wondered how she had gotten so lucky to get the best traits of both races –most half dwarves were not so lucky.

"It's been so long, Lovisa! Ya weren't here when I last visited," Baylee chirped, still hugging onto the woman. "Are ya goin' t' be goin' out again anytime soon?"

The woman wore a grin as she shook her head; Ori felt himself blush slightly. Her face was made for smiling. Holding up her hands, she made quick work of signing out her answer. 'No. Here for while. Surprised me! Not know you come. Eira tell to come up here!' She gave Baylee an extra squeeze before pulling back and looking her over. 'Got taller?'

Baylee snorted. "I wish. I'm just as short as ever."

'Then need new boots,' Lovisa joked. 'Add inches to height.'

She giggled. "I'm not some fancy lady o' Bard's court," she told her. "I'm fine with what I've got."

Lovisa grinned broadly before noticing the dwarf standing some feet behind Baylee. Tilting her head, she lifted a snowy brow and chuckled. 'Who he?' Ori noticed that she made a sign he didn't recognize.

"Ah! Sorry, Ori, I nearly forgot about you!" She smiled apologetically at him as she brought the half-dwarf over. "Lovisa, this is my friend, Ori. Ori, Lovisa."

"Hello, miss," Ori smiled, giving her a small wave.

Again, Lovisa used some signs with Baylee that Ori wasn't familiar with. He cocked his head to the side, glancing at the human who giggled and nodded. "Er…I hate to interrupt, but what she did sign?"

"Do you not use those signs?" Baylee inquired, blinking. Ori shook his head. "Ah, well, she just told me that she thinks you look entirely too adorable."

He felt his cheeks darken as he let out a shy laugh. "W-well, thank you…" he murmured, his hands starting to fiddle with themselves. A quiet squeak left his mouth as Lovisa suddenly stepped forward and gave him a hug just as big as the one she had given Baylee –and it was then that he realized what she had meant when she joked that Lovisa's hugs were good things if one were taller than her.

'At least she's soft,' he told himself with a small chuckle as he hugged the woman in return. Baylee had failed to mention that, despite getting an eyeful, Lovisa was quite good at giving hugs. It almost reminded him of the way his mother or grandmother would embrace when he was a child and had a nightmare. The only real difference is that Lovisa's arms felt stronger than the matriarchs of his family and she smelled heavily of the forest. 'And she smells like cedar trees…Then again, Baylee said she was a huntress.'

Lovisa pulled back and patted Ori on the shoulder before signing to the two of them. 'Come! Dinner ready. Both are too skinny. Need eat more!'

"Uh-oh, here we go…" Baylee chuckled as she rolled her eyes. Lovisa started to half push, half lead them towards the door. "She'll make sure we eat more food than we can handle."

He perked. "That is perfectly alright with me."

'Good!' Lovisa signed. 'Need more meat on bones. Too skinny for dwarf!' She gave a rather maternal look to Baylee. 'You always too skinny.'

She pouted. "Oh, come off it. None of my bones are stickin' out, are they? An' I eat plenty –ask Ori!"

"She does," he quickly agreed.

Dismissively waving her hand, Lovisa closed the door as they started down the stairs. 'Comes off when run around inn. Will be lazy few days. Gain pound or two.'

Again, Baylee rolled her eyes, but quietly laughed. "Now you're startin' t' sound like Galiene…"

'Better than old cook. Old cook skimp on your meals!'

"But you always snuck me more food," she chuckled.

'Eaten by William…He here?'

She shook her head. "No, he's got an actual job now. Works in a toyshop!"

Lovisa happily clapped. 'Good! He need work. Skilled lad…go far.'

Ori smiled. "He's bein' taught how to make toys by our friends, Bofur and Bifur."

A thoughtful look came to hear face and she paused on the steps, tapping her chin. 'Those names sound somewhat familiar,' she thought. 'Oh well. Maybe they stayed here once.' Shrugging, she continued after Baylee and Ori. 'Can't say I ever thought about Will crafting toys, though. It should be a good opportunity for him, though. He's already so good at carving and carpentry things…' A warm smile came to her lips at the thought and a bit of pride swelled up inside of her; she had helped to raise him after all.

~*~

_"Dragon! The dragon has come!"_

_"Get the women and children to the boats! Men, ready your bows!"_

_Baylee winced as she was forced forward in the crowd of women as they hurried towards the fleet of boats tied to the docks. More than once she got an elbow to the face or her feet trampled on. She cursed her smallness and prayed to any god who would listen that those who were smaller than her were not suffering the same painful fate._

_Where was her mother? Or Demelza? Or Eira and Grethe? She knew where Warren and Will were; they were off trying to fight the fires. She tried to look around for them, but couldn't see anything past shoulders and necks._

_A mighty roar filled the air and she cringed, her hands rising to cover her ears. She dared to look over her shoulder at the dragon only for her eyes to be filled with the sight of fire raining down onto the town. The dry roofs instantly caught on fire and smoke started to rise into the air. The dragon himself was elegantly circling the town, the light of the burning city glinting off of the millions of jewels lining his body._

_He was beautifully terrifying._

_Smaug opened his mouth and let out another roar before he swooped down towards the crowd of people fleeing the village. He laughed at their terror, the sound resembling thunder. Baylee shrank back and bit the inside of her cheek before being forced forward with a renewed vigor. Shrieks erupted around her as Smaug flew by, his claws tearing through a building and showering them with splinters of wood and broken boards. With another laugh, he backed up and used his wings to fan the flames._

_Thick, black smoke billowed down the street. It stung Baylee's eyes and made her cough. Pulling her shirt up, she used it to cover her mouth, though she knew well enough that it gave her little protection. It didn't help that the crowd, growing ever more panicky, shoved her closer to the people in front of her. She squirmed, doing her best to not panic as they neared the docks, but her heart was racing in her chest and she was starting to breathe quicker._

_Smaug flew over them again, sending another shower of broken wood down on the people. Something hit Baylee's head and her vision went black while screams filled her ears._

Baylee bolted upright, gasping for air. Everything around her was black, but as she calmed down, she realized it was only because it was dark. Flopping back against her pillows, she grinned and rubbed her face.

"Not here," she mumbled to herself. "Lórien have mercy, please not here!" Despite it only having been a dream, she felt a stinging sensation on the top of her head and she could smell burning wood and cloth.

Slipping out of bed, she made her way to the window and threw it open. She gulped in the night air, clearing her nose of the scent and her mind of any fear that remained. 'Why did I have to have that dream?' she thought, closing her eyes. 'I didn't have any the last time I came here. So why now?' Rubbing her head where the stinging continued, she quietly sighed. 'I'm an adult; I shouldn't be scared by nightmares –even if they actually happened.'

Unbraiding her hair, she ran her fingers through the locks, separating them out before combing through them. The moon was only a sliver in the sky and gave off very little light through the clouds that were scattered throughout the sky. The stars, however, shone brightly and a small smile graced her lips. As a bit of wind shifted the clouds, she was able to spot a few constellations. There was Talawé, the dancer, and Noak the hunter. In the distance, she spied Wimund and Baelúna, the slumbering twins after whom she and Will had been named after.

'Hope he's not fretting over me,' she thought. 'I know he probably woke up, knowing I had a nightmare. He always knows somehow.' A yawn snuck up on her and she leaned against the window frame. For a moment, she closed her eyes and let the quiet sound of the lake's waves fill her senses. It was this sound that once lulled her to sleep at night –long before any nightmares frightened her into consciousness.

When she opened her eyes, she found that she had slid down onto her knees, her head still resting against the wall. The sky was still dark with some hours before dawn. Sleepily, she scolded herself while managing to get back onto her feet. She climbed into bed without bothering to close the window and snuggled into her pillow, having totally forgotten that she had had a nightmare.


	14. Chapter 14

Dwalin sighed as he wandered around Dale, feeling rather bored. Nori was off checking up on his and Dori's business partners while Bifur and Bofur were at work. Truthfully, he could go back to Erebor…he had come to Dale because of a rumor he had heard about Nori and illegal activities, but he had witnessed nothing shady –well, shadier than normal- about him. If he were to go back to Erebor, there would be nothing really for him to do. Unlike the other members of the Company, he didn't have any useful business or teaching skills besides fighting, leaving him to lead a rather…boring life these days.

With nothing else better to do, he changed his course and made for the market. He knew well enough that over the last couple of days, Bofur, Bifur, and Will hadn't gotten much in the way of lunch since Baylee was gone. It also didn't help that, ever since they moved out of the inn and properly into the second floor of their store, they didn't get much of a breakfast, either. Just wasn't right for a dwarf to get so little food, in his opinion.

So he would show them his rarely seen kind side.

Stopping by various vendors, he made sure to buy enough food for three hungrily dwarves and one large, hungry human. He bought dumplings, pies, breads, cheese, and some chunks of meat that was both cured and smoked. When he got nearer to the toyshop, he also bought them each a bottle of wine. Normally, he'd prefer beer, but it didn't come in such handy bottles.

With food in hand, he went to the toyshop. It wasn't nearly as busy as it had been for its first two days, but there was still a fair amount of adults and children inside. When he entered, some of the children gave him a wide berth because he was so imposing. Off in the corner, he saw Bofur explaining one of the toys to a little girl while Will was taking money from a mother as she purchased a kite for her daughter.

Walking past the two of them with a small wave, he went into the back room where he found Bifur sweeping up some wood shavings. "I brought food," he told him, speaking in Khuzdul. He headed into the kitchen.

Bifur looked up, finding himself a bit startled. "You did?" he asked, brows furrowing in confusion. "How much food…?" Poking his head into the kitchen, he leaned against the doorframe.

"Enough for the four of us." He started to lay the food out on the table, neatly stacking the used breakfast dishes out of the way. "Yeh and Bofur don't get enough food these days and Will…well, he's a big lad. He needs lots of food." When he came across what looked like the beginning of a bracelet, he decided that it would be best to leave that alone for now.

Bifur chuckled, moving to get the dirty dishes out of the way and bring out some clean ones. "Sorry about the mess…We had a bit of a late start this morning."

He cocked his brow. "Why's that?"

"Bofur dropped a bowlful of barley on the floor and it went everywhere. It took a good half an hour to get it clean."

"Ah." He set a bottle of wine at each of the places before stepping back and observing his table setting skills. They weren't too bad, he thought, though the presentation would never pass in a noble household. "Well, feel free t' start eatin' if yeh like. I'll go tell the other two 'bout the food."

"No need to tell me." Bofur came in, grinning broadly. "Will's finishin' up with the last two customers an' then he'll put the lunch sign up." He moved to take the seat where the in-progress bracelet was at.

Dwalin cocked his brow as he sat down, starting to pile his plate up with food. "Who's that bracelet for?" he inquired.

Bofur's cheeks turned a little pink. "Baylee," he admitted before he could stop himself. "Er…her an' Will's birthday is comin' up soon, so I thought I'd make her somethin'. Tryin' t' think of something for Will, too." The speed at which he spoke was too fast for him to be telling the entire truth.

His brow remained raised as he looked at the shorter dwarf. Then, he slowly started to grin. "Yeh fancy her, don't yeh lad?"

Grabbing a bottle, Bofur used his teeth to uncork it. "Yes. I do." His cheeks were bright red as he spoke, but he seemed calm enough.

His bluntness made Bifur pause and stare at him. Past his cousin, he could see that Will had come in and had been rendered frozen to his spot –Dwalin and Bofur had been conversing in Westron, not Khuzdul, letting the human understand their conversation perfectly. An almost triumphant grin came to his lips.

"Nêguzu dilak?" Bifur asked Bofur, a hint of a grin coming to his lips.

"Of course I mean that!" Bofur replied, a small frown on his face. "I wouldn't joke 'bout somethin' like this an' you know it. Aye, it took a while for me t' realize it, but…I do fancy Baylee." He ripped off a piece of meat and shoved it in his mouth, still entirely unaware of Will's presence.

Suddenly, Will clapped Bofur on the back, taking him by surprise. "My sister's a lucky woman, then!" he happily declared.

Bofur nearly choked on his lunch.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Lovisa drummed her fingers against her arm as she watched Baylee and Ori scrub off their legs in the cold waters of the Long Lake. From the knee down, the two of them were covered in mud because Baylee had thought that showing Ori where Lake Town grew their freshwater clams would be a good idea. Ori, at least, had possessed the forethought to remove his boots and leave them on the shore.

Baylee…didn't. And now she needed a pair of new boots.

'Knew better,' she silently scolded. 'Know mud suck people in.'

"I didn't think that the mud was tha' deep! It hadn't been a few years ago." She walked, barefoot, onto the pebbly shore. "Not t' mention, I wasn't expectin' mud at all –aren't the elves in charge o' the clam beds? They normally have walkways constructed."

She shook her head. 'Building new.'

Ori chuckled. "At least it was fun?" he suggested. "Dori never let me tromp through the mud like that. Now I know what I was missin' when I was a child."

Lovisa stared at him. 'Not play in mud?'

He shook his head. "My brother never allowed for it. My mother would, but…she passed on when I was very young." Shrugging lightly, he wrung out of the hem of his tunic, which had gotten soaked by the lake. Plopping down on the rocks, he tugged his boots back on, watching as Baylee rolled up the legs of her trousers. His brows furrowed as he saw what looked like a sword scar on her calf, but he did not question its origins.

Shaking her head, Lovisa put her hands on her hips and quietly sighed. 'They never really grow up,' she thought, a small smile gracing her lips. Turning her head, she looked back towards the city before glancing at the sun. Its position in the sky let her know that it was early in the afternoon. 'Did eat?' she signed to the other two.

"We had a small lunch, yes," Ori answered.

'Small?'

Baylee nodded. "He bought us some dumplings an' we ate 'em on our way out here." She covered her mouth as she yawned.

'That not much.' She gave them both motherly looks before grabbing their hands and leading them off. Such a thing was familiar to Baylee; many times throughout her youth she and Will had followed behind Lovisa as she took them to the market or to the shore to play. Once they were on the bridge, Lovisa released their hands. 'Need get food, boots, knife.'

"Why a knife?" Baylee inquired.

She glanced over her shoulder. 'Broke.'

"How did you manage to break a knife?"

"It's not hard," Ori chuckled. "Dwalin's gone through so many of them…I'm thinking about getting him a couple while we're here. I've seen some good quality ones in the market; they almost look to be of dwarven make."

'Maybe,' Lovisa said. 'Likely imported. No dwarf smith here. Died years past.'

Baylee glance at Ori, who nodded in understanding. She knew well enough that the last dwarven smith to live in Lake Town had been Lovisa's father. He had been her father's master before he became an innkeeper.

"Well, any good quality blade would be welcomed by Dwalin…he's a warrior and he certainly enjoys getting new, sharp toys to play with," Ori chuckled. Both women noticed that his cheeks were tinged pink, earning a small grin from the two of them. "And some more food does sound good…"

"I know a great pie maker who makes some delicious meat pies," Baylee told him. As they came into the bustle of the city, Ori and Lovisa instinctively moved behind and in front of her respectively, wanting to spare her toes from getting stomped on. "Let's buy some o' those an' then visit the shoemakers?" she suggested.

Lovisa nodded, weaving her way through the crowds. At one point, Ori found himself having to hold onto Baylee's hand so he wouldn't get separated. Within time, though, the three of them were sitting, cross-legged, just inside a neat alleyway, their laps and mouths filled with warm, meat pie.

"Ned should really come up t' Dale," Baylee murmured before taking a large bite out of her chicken pie. "He always puts the right amount o' chicken an' vegetables into his pies."

A quiet, hoarse giggle came from Lovisa. 'Dale got Adela. Keep Ned.'

"Aw, but Adela makes good fruit pies. Ned…he's got the best meat pies. Anyway, he should come up an' visit his sister at the very least!"

She giggled again, setting her pie on her knee. 'She continue bake?'

"Aye," she chuckled. A sly grin came to her face. "An' guess what? She an' Will are courtin'."

Lovisa's gold eyes shot open in shock. 'What!? Warren know!?'

Baylee snorted as she took a bite of her second pie. 'No,' she signed. 'Will not tell. I keep secret. Think should tell…but not.'

Ori looked between the two of them. "What's so bad about Will courting this woman?"

'Warren hate Adela's father,' Lovisa told him. 'Rivals. Both have inns. Successful inns.'

"Never mind the inns. Adela's father tried t' woo my mother away from my papa when they were younger. Ooh, how he rues tha' day…O' course, neither knew that my mum was pregnant at the time…" She quietly giggled.

He frowned. "So, her father tried to seduce a married woman? Don't humans have laws against that? Dwarves do…"

"Will 'n me are bastards," Baylee giggled. "Mum an' papa weren't married until we were 'bout a year old. An', no. We don't have such laws unless any…'activities' took place an' are provable."

Lovisa lightly shook her head. 'Why being bastard funny?' she signed, the expression on her face showing that she was lightly scolding them. 'Are lucky Lake Town laws say are legitimate with marriage. Not all so lucky.'

Baylee's cheeks flared red in embarrassment and she looked down at her lap. "Sorry," she murmured, picking at a piece of crust. "Will 'n I just find it funny because it means no one can call us bastards an' offend us…"

'Good that not offended,' Lovisa reassured her. 'Just not everyone find funny. Remember.'

She nodded in understanding, taking another bite of her pie.

Ori looked between the two of them. When he had first been introduced to Lovisa, he had found it hard to believe that she had once been the caretaker for Will and Baylee –but now, after witnessing the gentle scolding she administered, he was starting to believe it. He hid a small smile behind his last beef pie as he took a bite from it.

'To our elders, I guess we never truly grow up,' he thought.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"I can't believe yeh spurted tha' out like tha', Bofur."

"I didn't know he was in the room! If I had known, then I would have kept my gob shut!"

"Mhm. That's why yeh tend to spout out the first thing tha' comes t' yer head all the time, eh?" Dwalin chortled and patted Bofur on the back. The smaller dwarf wobbled slightly in his spot, but didn't fall over –which was good, for they were sitting atop the graveyard wall. Most people avoided the place, despite the gorgeous views of the city it held. "At least William embraced the fact tha' yeh fancy his sister. Most would knock the snot out o' yeh."

Bofur sighed and took a long breath from his pipe. "It's not Will I'm worried 'bout, though. It's Warren an' Baylee herself." He closed his eyes as he exhaled the smoke, feeling its heat leave through his nose.

Dwalin cocked his brow and lowered his own pipe from his lips. "I can understand bein' afraid o' Warren, but Baylee? Why are yeh afraid o' her? I mean, aye, she's quite good with a spear, but I doubt she'll gut yeh with it for somethin' so trivial." He rubbed his tattooed scalp, sighing quietly. "Unless yeh mean rejection."

"It's a bit o' bein' afraid o' rejection an' her reaction if I ever told her." He took in another breath of smoke, tasting the mixture of tobacco and cherries flow across his tongue and down the back of his throat. "I mean, I could handle the rejection, but I don't think I could tell her because I'm afraid she'll be disgusted with me."

"An' why d'yeh think that?" He checked the bowl of his pipe, frowning when he saw nothing but ashes. 'No wonder my smoke got so weak,' he thought.

"I'm a dwarrow an' she's a human," he stated. "Most human women wouldn't be flattered t' find out a dwarrow fancies 'em –especially one so low in rank as me. An', let's face it, I'm not handsome even amongst our kind. Not t' mention, I'm over a century older than her!" He self-consciously rubbed his chin; he had more beard now than he did five years ago, but it still wasn't much. "I'm just worried that…if I told her…she'd laugh in my face or somethin'."

A loud snort came from Dwalin. Holding his pipe between his teeth, he lit it using a match. "Yer too paranoid, lad. Miss Baylee ain't the type t' laugh in someone's face at somethin' like that."

Bofur glanced up at him, unsure about his words. "She could."

He shook his head. "No. Yeh've known her longer 'n me, Bofur. When has she seemed the type o' woman t' be scornful?" Again, he shook his head and puffed on his pipe a bit before blowing a smoke ring into the sky. "No, if anythin', she'll be understandin'. If she don't fancy yeh back, she'll probably break it t' yeh gently –but if she does fancy yeh…" He quietly laughed.

His brows furrowing, he pulled his pipe from his mouth. "How do you know so much 'bout a subject like this?" he inquired.

"Because I had the exact same worries when I realized I fancied Ori." He stared at Bofur, no hint of joking or teasing on his features. "Ori's a young lad –much younger 'n yeh an' me- an' he's quite handsome by our standards. Not t' mentioned a wee bit sheltered. I thought he'd hate me if'n I told him 'bout how I felt, so I kept it quiet. Wasn't 'til he outright kissed me one day tha' I knew he wouldn't reject me. O' course, he did scold me for not tellin' him sooner…" He shrugged.

"I wouldn't have thought you were afraid o' anything," Bofur murmured, blinking, "let alone someone rejectin' you."

For a long moment, Dwalin was quietly. His gaze fell from Bofur to look down at the graveyard. They were evidently sitting near where the human nobility had been buried, because all the tombs and headstones he could see were large and had once been intricately carved, though weather had worn them down throughout the years –save for one. It seemed almost brand new. He was tempted to slide off the wall and go see who it belonged to, but he thought better of it.

At last, he spoke, his voice quiet. "Mahal made us dwarrows passionate lovers," he started. "Not just romantic lovers. Why do yeh think there are so few dwarrow children? Because so many o' our kind are in love with their craft or with their treasures. When Mahal blesses us enough t' give us room t' love another bein'…we love 'em with all our hearts an' if someone tries t' take 'em from us, we'll fight t' keep 'em ours –t' death even.

"So when we find ourselves in love with a person tha' we think we can't have –tha' we can't hold- it scares us. It's not like bein' in love with yer craft or yer supply o' gold. Yeh always have those –always. A person, though…yeh can't always have 'em. They may be too absorbed in their craft or in a different dwarrow an' there yeh are, left with a hole in yer heart that can't be filled."

Swallowing hard, Bofur slowly nodded. With a quiet sigh, he looked down only to find that he was gripping his shirt over his heart. "I know tha' feelin' all too well," he mumbled.

Dwalin slowly nodded, setting his hand on his shoulder. "Yeh loss yer betrothed nearly fifty years ago an' it still hurts yeh t' think 'bout her. An' it hurt me t' think tha' I couldn't have Ori –no, it terrified me. I hid it well, but I was terrified." He shook his head and let out a quiet sigh as he turned his eyes upwards, watching as some grey clouds drifted overheard; it had been threatening to rain for days now. "I knew I should have jus' told him, but…I didn't want t' know the pain o' rejection. But when 'e went an' kissed me…" A small smile came to his lips. "When he kissed me, I knew it would o' hurt more if I had jus' kept it t' myself because then I wouldn't have ever known."

"So I should tell her, regardless o' how scared I am?"

He nodded again. "Aye…because then yeh'll at least know. Not knowin' can eat away at a person like a disease."

Bofur managed a small smile as he let smoke billow out his nostrils again. "Thanks, Dwalin, though I've got t' admit that I don't think I ever pictured myself gettin' a talk 'bout love from you."

Shrugging, Dwalin moved to lay down on the wall, his hands behind his head and his ankles crossed. "I can't think 'bout war an' bloodshed all o' the time. Anyway…I've been tryin' t' think o' a way t' tell Nori an' Dori 'bout me 'n Ori for the last few days. I think Nori's finally catchin' on 'bout us."

"Well, you have been pinin' a bit ever since Ori an' Baylee left," Bofur quietly laughed. "It's obvious you miss him." He could see just a hint of color come to Dwalin's cheeks.

"Yeh miss Baylee," he told him, his voice dry.

Bofur laughed again. "Aye, but I hide it a wee bit better thanks t' my job. What you need is somethin' t' do t' keep your mind occupied."

"There's nothin' for a warrior dwarrow t' do in a time o' peace."

"You could join the city guard o' Dale or Erebor," he mused, "or offer fightin' lessons. I know Baylee improved quite a bit when you an' Nori took over."

He shook his head. "That's because her aunt was concentratin' on strength rather than speed. Baylee doesn't have much strength –she's got endurance, aye, but not strength- so she needed a more evasive fightin' style. She's small, like us, so o' course Nori's thievin' skills came in handy." He let his eyes drift closed.

"Tha' is true." He nibbled on the end of his pipe before glancing at Dwalin. "So…Ori just outright kissed yeh? Didn't say anythin' or the likes?"

"Nah. He told me he wanted t' talk t' me in private, led me away from everyone, an' jus'…well, he had t' pull me down, but aye. Just kissed me. Bravest thing the lad ever did." He chuckled quietly. "I could tell tha' he was jus' as anxious as I was because first thing he did was apologize for ten minutes. Couldn't get a single word in through it all. Finally had t' shut him up with a kiss o' my own."

Bofur nodded, scratching his chin. "Don't think that'd be the way t' approach Baylee with this matter…"

"Just think 'bout it," Dwalin shrugged. "Or ask Will; I'm sure he'd be willin' t' help yeh out. Mahal knows tha' lad is more than a lil' happy tha' yeh fancy his sister."

"Don't know why. Aren't brothers supposed t' be protective o' their sisters?"

"Well, he's got himself a lass. Maybe he just wants his sister t' have a lad?" He blinked as he felt a drop of water land on his head. "They are twins after all. What one twin has, the other should get as well so things are equal…"

"Maybe…You know, ya could always tell Nori over a pint o' beer. If you buy it for him, he'll be less inclined t' rip ya a new one." A cheeky grin came to his lips as he looked at the unimpressed Dwalin.

He felt another droplet of water land on his scalp and he glanced up. "He wouldn't be able t' get his hands on me," he grumbled, "but tha' is a good idea, really. He's always more agreeable once he's got some drink in him."

The final part of Dwalin's sentence was drowned out, however. Without warning, lightning tore through the clouds and thunder boomed loudly; it was so loud, the dwarves felt it shake their bones a bit. The skies opened up and it began to rain heavily.

Bofur merely chuckled as he tucked his pipe away.

"And this is why I wear a hat," he thought aloud.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Baylee sighed quietly as she lay back in a copper tub, her body surrounded by hot, chamomile-scented water. Candles were scattered about the room, filling it with a soft, warm glow that didn't quite reach the corners of the room. Beside the tub was a stool; atop it was a tray with various bathing oils and soaps. Eira had told her to use any and as much as she liked, though she found most to be too strong for her nose

As she sank down lower into the tub, she had to admit one thing: Eira knew how to draw up baths. Back at the Tankard, she knew that her bath would be in a copper tub, much like this one, but it wouldn't feel nearly as relaxing because the room was small and their selection of bath oils scant. It wasn't for a lack of funds, but rather for Will and Demelza's health. Early on, the family had discovered that certain scents –particularly strong ones like lavender or rose- made it hard for the two of them to breath and some oils would turn Will's skin bright pink and he'd become itchy.

Opening her eyes, she reached over and ran her fingers over the tops of three bottles. These three were the only oils that she had really liked: Almond, jasmine, and ginger. She was hesitant to use the jasmine, knowing that it was expensive oil; Eira had to import it all the way from Dorwinion. The ginger one reminded her of the spicy cookies that her mother had made when she was a child; she would sit on Will's shoulders and steal handfuls of them from the jar in the kitchen when Galiene was too busy to catch them. In the end, though, it was the almond that won out –though she didn't quite know why.

'It just smells so nice,' she thought as she poured a bit into the milky water. 'It reminds me of someone, but I don't quite know who…' Grabbing a cloth, she started to scrub down her arms and legs, glancing up as light flickered outside the window. She paused and grinned as thunder rumbled lowly outside almost two minutes later.

"A storm," she breathed, eyes widening.

For a split second, the clouds to the north were illuminated by the tendrils of unseen lightning. With as long as it took for the thunder to reach her ears after the lightning struck, she knew that the storm had to be over Dale. She shook her head, hoping it would come further south.

'Will's lucky,' she thought. 'Getting to watch it…From the looks of it, it's a big one. Ah…I hope it makes it way south. I want to see it, too.' As children, she and her twin had startled her parents by not being frightened by thunder and lightning, but rather, entranced by it. More than once they had been scolded and dragged back indoors during one; Éolynna and Warren had breathed a sigh of relief when the siblings finally grasped the concept of how dangerous lightning could be.

After some time, she rose from the tub and wrapped a towel around herself before leaving the room. When she entered her quarters, she suddenly felt a rush of excitement and she quietly chuckled.

'Aye, he's havin' the time o' his life,' she thought, locking the door. Her room was lit only by the small fireplace in the corner, leaving it quite dark. She went over to her window and threw open the window –it looked out over the lake, leaving her no worries about anyone peeking in. The time between the lightning flashes and the thunder was growing shorter, but not by much. Shaking her head, she turned away from the sight and let the towel fall from her torso so she could use it to dry her hair.

Moving towards the fire, she stopped as she looked in the mirror. Her nose scrunched up slightly at the sight of a faded set of claw marks on her stomach. Running her fingers over them, she barely flinched as the face of the orc who had slashed her filled her mind. She furrowed her brows and shook her head.

"They've faded a lot," she mumbled to herself. "Now if they'd just go away for good…" Reaching into her pack, she pulled out her brush and one of her dresses before moving to sit on her bed. She made quick work of brushing out her hair and twisting it back in a braid for the night before wringing any excess water out onto the towel.

It was as she was pulling the dress on that she got distracted. Her brows furrowed and she pulled the neck of it up and over her nose. It smelled…different from the rest of her clothes.

'Ale…?' she thought. 'And that's definitely pine…' Closing her eyes, she breathed the smell in deeper, this time the almond from her hair and skin mingling with it. After a moment's thought, she realized who the almond had reminded her of.

"Why does my dress smell like Bofur?" she mumbled, puzzled. A small, jittery sensation filled her stomach and she laid back, trying to remember when the last time she wore the dress was. 'Not that it's a bad smell,' she told herself. 'It's quite nice, really…It's warm and welcoming –just like Bofur.' Her cheeks had darkened a bit. 'Ah, yes…I last wore this when he took me to the shop to get some toys for the wee ones. And I…kissed his cheek.'

Biting the inside of her cheek, she was unaware that a small, silly smile had come to her lips as she pictured his smiling face when she had found his hat. 'I know he didn't make me pay full price for the toys…I should get him something as a thank-you. He has that scarf –it looks rather threadbare. But it'll be summer soon and he won't have need of one. Hm. A new hat is out of the question, that's for sure." She rolled onto her side, unconsciously keeping the neck of her dress pulled up around her nose.

'Maybe some trinkets for his hair?' Her brow rose slightly at both the thought and the thunder that was closing in. 'Even Bifur has more little decorations in his hair than he does. Dwarves like to show off wealth, right? Aye, I think so…so, some gold or silver beads in his hair wouldn't be a bad addition…especially if he left his hair down…'

She felt her cheeks grow hot as could see Bofur, his hair down and various beads and clasps scattered throughout his dark locks. He was clad in a deep gold shirt with a blood-red over tunic; she couldn't help but notice how both colors were rather attractive on him. She swallowed hard when she found a playful twinkle in his hazel eyes and a handsome smile on his lips. Bofur reached his hand out to her, his eyes meeting her gaze.

'Let's go t' Erebor together, Baylee. Let's run away! I'll make ya happy, I swear –you'll be the happiest woman in the whole o' Arda-'

"Baylee! Elle says we're not saving you any supper if you don't come out of your room soon!" It was Ori and he knocked on her door as he spoke. Half his words had been drowned out by the thunder, but she understood most of what had been said.

"Ah…uh…I'll be there shortly!" she called to him, startled by both her thoughts and his voice. "I just got out o' the bath, sorry!" She clenched her eyes shut, trying to calm herself; her heart was racing inside her chest.

"Well, you best hurry. Grethe is threatening to steal your potatoes." She heard him chuckle behind the door before walking off.

Standing up, she tugged her dress off of her face and fixed it so it was situated properly on her body. 'Did I really just think that? Why in the world would I want to run away, and to Erebor of all places? I must have been talking to Wenna too much before we left.' Walking out of the room with her towel in tow, she pretended to be rubbing her face dry in it as she walked down the hall, giving her some excuse for having such red cheeks. 'Though, Bofur would be quite handsome with his hair down…'

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Will had his knees pulled up to his chest as he stared out of the window, his eyes fixed on the storm. He grinned, watching as the lightning streaked across the sky and thunder rattled the windows. It was barely time for supper and yet it was as dark as midnight outside.

'Baylee is going to be so jealous when I tell her about this,' he thought. 'This is a pretty big storm. We haven't had one like this in forever…'

Thunder rumbled overhead, keeping him from hearing the knock on his door. Whoever it was knocked again and called out. "Will, lad, you've a visitor." It was Wenna.

"I do?" Rising from his bed, he went to the door and opened it, finding Wenna standing in front of Adela. His brows furrowed in worry; Adela's eyes were red and puffy from crying and she was soaking wet. "Thank-you, Wenna," he told the younger woman. "Could ya bring us some tea? An' don't tell my dad just yet."

She nodded in understanding and hurried off while Will ushered Adela into his room.

"Why in the world are you so wet?" he frowned, peeling her shawl from her shoulders and setting it in front of his hearth to dry. "And why have you been crying?"

Adela's jaw started to wobble as she shuffled over to him before clinging on and sobbing against his chest. He held her close, not caring that her wet clothing was soaking through his own, dry clothing. Her whole body was shaking; whether from being wet or from her sobs, he couldn't tell. He stroked her back and held her close to him, letting her take her time to calm down.

Finally, after nearly ten minutes, she pulled back enough to wipe her eyes on the back of her hand. "M-my da'…he found out 'bout us," she croaked. Will didn't like how her voice was hoarse.

"Oh no…what did he do?" He gently led her over to his bed, where he sat her down. Grabbing his blanket, he wrapped it around her, not caring if it'd get wet, either. He always had spares.

"He…he practically disowned me. Kicked me out o' our home in front of all our patrons and said I was a traitor t' the family for courtin' ya…"

His eyes widened in anger. "He did WHAT!?"

She let out another sob as she nodded. "He says I'm not t' come back until I marry a proper lad who ain't a Braddock."

Will felt his jaw tighten as he clenched his teeth. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt such anger and hatred building up inside of him. "Just because our dads hate each other doesn't mean he has the right t' treat you like this!" he whispered. "For Manwë's sake, my dad wouldn't do such an absurd thing!"

She said nothing; she only cried harder into his chest. Closing his eyes, he continued to rub her back, thinking about the various nasty things he wanted to do to Adela's father for hurting her like this. And in front of the inn's patrons?! He shook his head; he always knew that her father was a strange one. He kept stricter hours on his employees and was constantly firing anyone he didn't find to be up to his standards.

"You didn't deserve that," he whispered. "If anything, he should have come yelled at me –not you."

"Neither o' us deserved t' be yelled at," she shakily told him. "We're in love; what's so bad 'bout that?"

A small knock came to the door and Wenna poked her head in. "I've got the tea," she quietly told Will. He could see a concerned frown on her face as she stepped in; he saw that her tray also had more than just tea on it. "I uh…also brought some soup for her. It'll help t' warm her up…"

"Thank-you, Wenna," he sighed. "Just set it on the table."

She nodded, moving to do such. She also took up the teapot and filled one of the mugs up with steaming ginger tea before carrying it over to Adela, who gladly took it and thanked her. With a small nod towards Will, she left the room to go tend to the inn's patrons.

For a long while, Adela and Will were quiet. He continued to hold her, watching as she slowly traced the rim of the mug with her finger. After a moment, she lifted it and took a small sip, wincing as the warm tea slid down her aching throat. She felt Will kiss her temple and leaned against him, her eyes closing.

"I didn't know where t' go or what t' do," she whispered. "I just knew that I had t' find ya."

"You did the right thing, Adela," he murmured. He smoothed out her hair and kissed the top of her head before rising to his feet. "You can stay here," he told her, moving to the table. He grabbed the bowl of soup and a spoon.

She looked at him, horrified. "Your da', though-"

Will knelt before her, wearing a small, reassuring smile. "I'll talk to him," he told her. Filling the spoon, he held it to her lips, watching as she sipped it. "If I talk to him, I can make him understand." He fed her a bit more soup.

"Are ya sure?" she quietly asked. Before she took another spoonful of soup, she drank some tea. The ginger was helping to soothe her throat. "I don't want t' be yelled at anymore, Will."

Taking her hand, he gently covered her palm in kisses. "My dad has never yelled at me or at anyone." He fed her some more soup, waiting until half the bowl was gone before once more rising to his feet. "Stay here and get warm. I'll talk to dad and get you a change of clothes, alright?"

She nodded slowly, looking down into the bowl on her lap. "Don't…don't do anythin' drastic because o' me, Will. I don't want ya t' lose your family, too."

"I promise," he murmured, giving her forehead another kiss. Leaving the room and closing the door behind him, he let out a heavy sigh and closed his eyes. 'If I see her father within the next few days, I won't be able to resist hitting him,' he thought, walking down the hall. 'Disowning his daughter because she loves me!? He must be mad!'

He barely noticed when he passed through the kitchen and outside into the storm. Normally, he would have taken the long way around –through the storage room, into the stables, and down into the smithy, but he needed to speak with his father urgently. Lightning streaked across the sky and he glanced up for a second, a shadow of a grin coming to his lips.

Shaking his head, he went into the smithy, where a blast of hot, unforgiving air slammed against him. Warren was polishing up a new candleholder he had been working on, though he looked up as he spotted his son.

"Will?" he asked, brows furrowed. "What's wrong, lad? You look ready t' kill someone."

"If I see Mannus Stover, I just may," he admitted, leaning against the wall. He watched his father's expression change from concerned to disgust.

"What'd he do this time?" He looked back to the candleholder and the cloth in his hand.

Will was silent for a bit, trying to think of how to best break the news to his father. Warren held no love for Mannus, not since he had tried to woo Éolynna away. It also did not help that Mannus owned an inn that was rival to the Tankard. Because of this, he also held no love for any members of the Stover family.

With a sigh, he closed his eyes. "He all but disowned Adela. Kicked her out o' the inn and told her not to come back."

Warren glanced at his son. "An' that troubles you because…?"

"Because we've been courtin' in secret for the last two years." He winced as his father dropped the candleholder and it clattered to the ground. "I know you don't like the Stover family, dad, but Adela's nothin' like her father. She's sweet and loving and-"

Warren held his hand up, silencing him. "I have no quarrel with either Adela or Ned," he told him, his voice quiet. "Though, I'm starting to wonder if you've got one with me for not telling me about this relationship."

Will shook his head. "No, I don't, dad –you know I tell you everything-"

"Then why not this?" He glanced up at his son, a mixture of anger and hurt in his eyes.

"Because…I didn't think you'd allow it because o' how much you hate Mannus."

Warren sat down on a stool and rubbed his face tiredly, smearing a mixture of soot and polish over his face. "I may have not allowed it at first," he admitted, "but Adela's not her father. I would have come 'round in time." He cursed under his breath. "I should have known when I saw the two o' you dancin' when Bard was here."

Will's cheeks turned red and he glanced away. "I'm sorry…" he murmured, ashamed.

"Where is she now?"

"In my room, eatin' some soup and tea to get warm. She was soakin' wet when she got here."

"Of course she was. Their inn is all the way across the city." He rubbed his face again and sighed heavily. "She can stay in Baylee's room for now. She can stay permanently if she's willing to help Galiene in the kitchen." Glancing up at his son, he could see that Will was now smiling and he couldn't help but grin slightly as well. "An' see if your aunt has any dry clothes that would fit. I doubt it, though…Adela's very…"

"Soft and curvy," Will said with a dreamy grin.

Warren cleared his throat and glanced away. "I was going t' say 'buxom', but if you insist…"

Will coughed, his cheeks turning even darker, earning a hearty laugh from his father. "So…You won't stop me from courtin' her?"

"No. I'd be a hypocrite if I did, anyway. Your mum an' I courted while my own parents didn't like her." He gave Will a reassuring smile. "Also, you may want t' go over the wages she'll be earnin' an' look for one o' the rooms we'll be able t' give up for her."

"Why can't she just-"

Warren cocked his brow, knowing exactly what he was going to say. "Because I won't have my future grandchildren born out o' wedlock like you an' Baylee were." He rolled his eyes as Will snorted. "Now go on –I have some work left t' do in here. An' for Nienna's sake, Will –go the long way 'round! It took your mother an' me eight years to teach you an' your sister to not go outside during a storm…" He shook his head, turning back to polishing the candleholder.

With a small grin, Will hurried through the side door of the smithy and into the stables, making his way through them. He waved at Peter before pulling a key out and using it to unlock a door that led into the storage room. As he left that room and came into the hallway, he let out a small sigh.

Where was he supposed to find something that would fit Adela?

Demelza was most definitely too thin to loan anything to her and any of Baylee's clothes were not even remotely possible. As he neared the door to the private quarters, he wondered how improper his father would think it if he were to loan her his night shirt. Shaking his head, he sighed.

'Nothing else will fit her,' he thought. 'Not that that's a bad thing…our family just has thin women in it –and that's not bad either, except for when someone like Adela needs some clothes.' He entered his family's quarters and started down the hall, heading for his room. 'She'll just have to use my nightshirt tonight. Tomorrow, we'll go get her things and we won't have to worry about clothing again.'

Reaching the door, he opened it a crack and poked his head in. Adela was sitting closer to the heart, wrapped up in his blanket while sipping her tea. From the looks of it, her bowl of soup was gone. He smiled and came in, closing the door behind him. "I've good news."

She looked up, a bit startled to see him. "Y-you do…?"

"You'll be staying in Baylee's room tonight. After that, we'll probably have found a single-person room upstairs for you t' stay in. Dad says that if you work in the kitchen with Galiene –an', no doubt, help Baylee, Wenna, an' Auntie on busy nights- you can stay here as long as you want an' you'll be getting wages."

Her eyes widened in shock. "What?" she murmured. "He's…he's doin' all that for me?" Will nodded and she bolted to her feet, clinging onto him. "If anyone ever says a word against your da', I'll give 'em a good wallop upside the head with a frying pan!" she told him.

A soft laugh left his mouth and he patted her on the back. "Then hug him when ya see him. For now, though, I need t' get you in some dry clothes. Being that Baylee and auntie aren't quite as curvy as you, though, it'll be my nightshirt you'll be wearing tonight." Kissing the top of her head, he pulled back to open the trunk at the foot of his bed. Rummaging through it, he eventually found what he was looking for. The nightshirt was practically brand new; he mostly slept in his trousers out of habit these days.

"Close your eyes," she told him as she took the garment. She quietly laughed as Will covered his eyes with his hands, though he wore a teasing grin. "I'm surprised ya don't have a changin' screen."

He heard the rustle of fabric and knew she was beginning to disrobe. "I don't need one."

"An' why not?"

"Because my family knows how t' knock before enterin' someone else's room." The fingers of his right hand slid apart and he grinned as he peeked at her nude form. She caught him and gave him a scolding look –but there was a smile on her lips.

"Keep 'em covered, lad" she lightly warned. "I'm not about t' push my luck tonight." She slid her arms through the ones in the nightshirt and started to pull it up to her elbows.

Pouting, he obediently covered his eyes back up. "Am I not allowed t' enjoy the sight of my lover nude?" Despite wanting to peek again, he resisted the temptation.

"Only when she can also enjoy the sight o' you nude –which just so happens to not be right now. Alright. It's safe." She walked over and stood on her tiptoes to kiss his chin. "D'ya think your sister is going t' mind me in her bed…?"

He shrugged. "I doubt it. Knowin' Baylee, she'd let you have it even if she was here." He plucked up her wet clothes and moved to drape them over his only chair near the fire. Outside, the storm was still raging, but Adela didn't seem to mind. She sat down on the bed and drank some more of her tea. "Are you still hungry?"

"A little, but I can last awhile yet." She smiled up at him; her eyes were still red and she was still shaking a bit, but she was no longer crying.

Sitting down near her, he reached out and started to toy with her hair. "You know, on the bright side…This means you won't have t' wait until midnight t' feed me some pie."

A soft laugh left her throat and she leaned over, resting her head against his chest. "That is true…And perhaps I can wrangle your sister's pie recipe out o' her. I don't know why her blackberry pie always comes out tastin' so…so tart, yet sweet."

He shrugged, wrapping his arms around her. "Don't ask me. She came up with it all on her own. The fruit bread, though –she got that from our mum. I don't think she'll be willin' t' part with that though."

She nodded in understanding. "Understandable. Some recipes just need t' stay secret, otherwise everyone would be great bakers an' our customers wouldn't be comin' t' us t' eat." Closing her eyes, she let out a soft sigh and relaxed against him. "Maybe this is all for the best," she murmured. "My da' was startin' t' drive me bonkers…he's been gettin' right strict 'bout the silliest o' things. He almost fired our cook the other day because he made rabbit stew instead o' beef stew like he had planned, but we were out o' beef…" She quietly sighed.

Will frowned, his fingers continuing to toy with her hair. "That's…not normal."

Another, heavier sigh left her mouth. "He almost tossed ma' out with me. She stood up t' him. Told him he was being too unfair by tossin' me out and that it shouldn't matter who I was in love with, but he yelled at her, too." She shook her head and rubbed her face. "

"Your father never really had brains for anything but business, did he?" he sighed.

She glanced up at him. "Why d'ya think Ned decided t' stay in Lake Town?" Shaking her head, she crossed her arms under her chest and snuggled against him. "No. Ned was smart. He got away from all this before it could get bad…I think ma's goin' t' pluck up the courage an' leave da' now, though. No. I know she is."

"I don't see why she didn't leave him all those years ago." He started to absentmindedly braid her hair.

"She had hope that a part of him really did love her. But…No."

"He only had eyes for my mum…which is odd, since he was married long before my parents were."

A sarcastic laugh left her mouth. "Don't ask me. I'm not like him. I won't be like him. If'n we ever get married, Will, I'll only ever have eyes for you an' you alone."

Tilting her head back, he kissed her deeply on the lips, his thumb lightly caressing her cheek. "An' I'll only ever love you an' any children we'll have."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"So, with the marshes to the west still flooded from winter, we'll have t' travel back north along the eastern edge o' the river." Richard glanced over at his niece as the two of them wandered through the market. They had stopped at a bead vendor, where Baylee was sorting through trays of silver and gold beads and trinkets. "There hasn't been any news of raids this far south, so we should be safe."

"I don't think we'll get attack whether we're on this side o' the river or that side," she told him. Holding up a large, silver bead, she closely inspected it. It was covered in circular engravings. "All the reports we heard back home were comin' from two an' three out o' the city. If we stay close t' the river, we'll be safe." She put the bead back down.

Richard chuckled and patted her on the shoulder. "Always the optimistic one, aren't you?" he asked.

"Better t' live happy than t' live grumpy," she chirped. "Do ya think Bofur would like this one?" She had picked up a large, gold bead that had figures of people and axes engraved on it.

He cocked his brow as he took the bead and looked it over. "Bofur?"

"Aye. I'm getting' him a gift."

Holding the bead back to her, he kept his brow raised. "A gift? Why for? An' I think it'll suit him."

She added the bead to the growing collection in her palm. "He did me a favor before we came down here an' I want t' repay him for it."

"Ahh…I see. What you actually mean is that you've a crush on him."

Her eyes shot open and her cheeks turned beet red. "Uncle!" she cried, aghast. The stall's vendor chuckled quietly, keeping her head ducked in a futile attempt to pretend she wasn't eavesdropping.

He smiled innocently. "I'm pulling your leg, love."

Grumbling under her breath, she chose another bead, adding it to her pile.

Richard shook his head, chuckling quietly. "So what favor was it that he did for you?"

"Gave me a good deal on the toys I bought for the wee ones," she answered. Showing the vendor the beads she had chosen, she pulled out some money to give to her in exchange. "So I thought I'd get him some hair trinkets, since I doubt he'd accept me givin' him money or tryin' t' sneak the rest of the amount to him somehow."

"So, you're getting him decorations for his hair?"

"Well, he doesn't have any. The others do."

He quietly laughed, watching her as they started to walk off towards a cloth merchant. He wanted to see if they had anything imported from Rohan; if they did, he would get some for Demelza. "Baylee, has anyone ever told you how much dwarves value their hair and beards?"

"N-no…but I know that their hair is a sign o' pride for them. An' rightly so –they've got so much o' it!" She giggled.

Opening the door for her, he watched as she went into the shop. "Most dwarves never cut their hair," he told her, "because the longer and fuller the beard, the more important they tend t' be. Take Dain for example –You saw him once. Do you remember how long his beard was?"

"So long he had it tucked into his belt."

He nodded as he looked over some silks. 'This green would be gorgeous on Demelza,' he thought. 'The color certainly would accentuate her eye color and the cloth her…' He pushed the thought from his mind, not wanting to think such things while his niece was around. "And did you see how many decoration he had in it?"

She quietly giggled as she looked at a rose-pink fabric that had white embroidery on it. It was hard to tell what the designs were while it was folded, but she thought it was pretty regardless. "Enough t' make me wonder what weighed more –him or his jewelry." She innocently, but nervously, grinned as Richard gave her a slight scolding look.

"That's because he's the king. Those of lesser statuses have less to decorate with. Bofur and Bifur don't have much at all in the way of decorations, so my guess is that they come from low-status families."

She frowned slightly. "But they helped t' reclaim Erebor. They're considered heroes now."

"That may be true, but they're humble. They probably shared their wealth with their families an' to build up a supply of toys." He found a blue silk headscarf that had golden embroidery around the edges. "Do you think your aunt would like this?"

Tilting her head, she looked it over. "Aye. She likes blue." Richard unwound it from the rack. "So what does all tha' stuff about beards an' hair decorations have t' do with me."

He chuckled. "Ah, yes…Sorry, I got a little distracted trying to find something for your aunt," he told her. "As I was saying, the dwarves are prideful of their hair and beards. Most of the time, they're the only ones to touch their hair. However…" He glanced at her when they came across spools of different colored threads, "if they fancy someone, they'll toy with the person's hair."

She cocked her brow and set down a spool of purple thread before looking up at him. "Are ya insinuatin' that, by givin' Bofur decorations for his hair, I'm flirtin' with him?"

"No. I'm merely insinuating that he may take it as a sign of flirtation."

Giving her uncle a dry look, she shook her head. "I doubt it. I mean, we've braided each other's hair before an' he made no mention o' it bein' flirtin' or acted any differently."

"Are you sure? Because when someone who isn't related t' them touches their hair, it tends to be a big deal to them."

Falling silent, she thought back to when she had braided Bofur's hair for him. He had stiffened slightly and she thought that he may have blushed just a bit, but his face had been mostly hidden from her. Then, when he had braided her hair, he seemed as if nothing had been out of the ordinary. But, Nori had acted a bit odd. He had been wearing a teasing smirk and kept glancing at Bofur before walking off…And Bofur had most definitely been blushing then.

He surely couldn't…?

And if he did, why her? There was nothing special about her. She wasn't even all that pretty; she admitted she was better looking than some females, but not nearly as attractive as most females. The only extraordinary thing about her was her ability to make fruit bread and blackberry pie.

No. He couldn't. A handsome dwarf like Bofur would more than likely fall for a gorgeous dwarven woman anyway.

"Baylee?"

"Aye?" She smiled, acting as if nothing was out of the ordinary. "Oh, no he didn't act any different. Why would he?" She chuckled quietly and shook her head. "It's a sign o' flirtation amongst dwarves –not humans- so it was just friends helpin' friends."

Despite her words, she knew her uncle wasn't convinced. His brow rose ever so slightly and the slightest hint of a grin came to his lips as he turned, moving to pull out the bundle of green silk. She wanted to tell him that she was sure he was just imagining things, but she kept silent. Something inside her had started to twist up at the thought of Bofur possibly flirting with her and she had almost felt excited about the possibility –but her doubt and senses had taken over, dashing that excitement.

'Why am I even thinking this over so much?' she thought, going over to the shelf of velvets. 'First I picture him wanting to whisk me away and then I start getting butterflies at the thought of him fancying me?' Her brows furrowed as she slightly frowned. "Wait…Do…do I fancy Bofur?" she murmured aloud.

"What was that?" Richard glanced over his shoulder when she spoke.

"N-Nothing, uncle! Just admirin' the shade o' blue here!" she quickly told him. Mentally cursing, she hoped that she sounded natural enough, though she had the feeling that she spoke too fast. 'I can't be crushing on Bofur! No, no, no!' Glancing over her shoulder, she could see her uncle preoccupied with cloth.

"Er, uncle? I'm think I'm goin' t' head back t' the inn. I'm startin' t' get hungry."

"Wait a minute and I'll come with you," he told her, moving to pay for the yards of silk and the headscarf.

"I'll…ah…be outside the shop then," she told him before hurriedly ducking outside. She breathed in the warm air, her eyes clenched shut as she leaned against the wall. Unconsciously, she plucked up a lock of her hair and started to nibble on it as she stared, worried, at the stone wooden street. 'Baylee, no. You won't crush on Bofur, no matter how handsome or how sweet he is,' she tried telling herself. 'Remember the last time you fancied someone…? Doubt Bofur would do that to you, but…I don't want to risk that humiliation again.'

"That's it…I'll just keep quiet about it…It's as easy as that," she mumbled.

"Keep quiet about what?"

She cursed as she jumped back, not having seen Richard leave the store. "N-Nothing."

He frowned at her, concern written on his features. "Baylee…What's wrong?" His tone was gentle, yet it demanded the truth. Walking over to her, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders and started to lead her away from the bustling crowds to a quieter part of the city.

Swallowing hard, she glanced up at her uncle. She knew well enough that there were three people in her life that she could tell absolutely anything to: Will, Lovisa, and Richard. With Will in Lake Town and Lovisa not knowing who Bofur was…her uncle was the only one around for miles who could help her sort out her mind. But, for the first time, she felt hesitant. Not because of anything he had done –Richard was always the patient one in the family and was a good listener- but because she almost felt as if she'd burst out crying, she was so confused.

He sat her down on a wooden bench near the edge of the city, letting them look out over the lake. On a day like today, its surface was glittering as if it were made of a million diamonds. For a while longer, Baylee remained quiet, still chewing on the lock of hair as she shifted uncomfortably on the bench. Reaching over, he tucked the lock behind her ear, the action moving it out of reach of her mouth.

"Baylee, I know you need t' talk," he gently told her, "and you know I'm here to listen."

Unable to chew on her hair, she started to fiddle with the laces of her overdress. "I don't think Bofur fancies me," she told him, "but I think I'm crushin' on him."

"Why do you think that?"

"He hasn't showed any signs o' flirting…meanwhile, I just realized I've been thinkin' about him a lot lately." Her cheeks turned pink and she kept her face down. "The other night, I put my dress on an' I noticed that it smelled like him. It made me have a daydream 'bout him askin' me to run away with him. An' then there was the night before we left –when I bought the toys from him- I…I kissed his cheek. I don't do that to people who aren't family. You know that."

He nodded slowly. "I do know that," he agreed softly. "But I also know that you don't normally get this worked up over a lad –dwarf or no. What's troubling you about this?"

She started to reach for a lock of hair, but her uncle stopped her and she forced herself to continue fiddling with the ties. "You remember what happened last time I fancied someone…"

"I highly doubt Bofur is going to treat you the way Mikael did."

"I know he wouldn't, but I still feel scared 'bout it." Her jaw shook slightly. "Anyway, I don't deserve someone like Bofur…"

He frowned. "Why would you think that? You'd be a catch for anyone."

"Because…" Once again, she tried to reach for her hair, but Richard stopped her. She knew it wasn't because he was annoyed by it, but because he didn't want her to damage her hair. "Because he's a dwarf."

"And you don't want t' court a dwarf?"

She shook her head. "A dwarf wouldn't want t' court me."

A small laugh left his mouth, surprising her. "Baylee, what in the world makes you think that? If anything, your smallness makes you desirable to them!"

A small pout came to her lips and she gave him a dry look. "Uncle, have ya even seen a dwarf woman? They're so…" She held up her hands and used them to make curved shapes in the air, "buxom. I barely even have breasts…" Scrunching her nose up, she glanced down at her small chest before shaking her head. "But that's not what I was meanin'." She let out a quiet sigh and rubbed her arm.

"Then what did you mean?" He set his hand on her shoulder.

"Bofur's still got a lot o' years on him."

He cocked his head. "And that's bad…?"

"Because if I told him how I felt an' if he felt the same an' if we got married someday…" She closed her eyes. "Papa told me that, were I to marry a dwarf, there's a fair chance that I'll pass on before 'em an' they'll still look as young as ever because o' their larger lifespan. He also said that dwarves tend t' not get a second chance at love, so…"

"…So, you're scared that you'd be damning him t' life a sorrowful life?" She nodded slowly only to have Richard pull her closer to him. As she rested her head on his shoulder and drew her knees to her chest, he let out a quiet sigh, stroking her shoulder. "You are your father's only daughter, Baylee, and that alone makes you a princess in his eyes…more so, now that your mother's gone. He just wants the best for you, but at the same time, he doesn't want you to get in over your head."

She glanced up at him. "So you agree with him 'bout the dwarves?"

"In a way, yes, but I also disagree with him. Dwarves are known for their hardiness. If you were to someday marry Bofur and pass on before him, I think he would continue on and remember you fondly. He certainly doesn't seem like the sort who lets himself get absorbed in sorrow. But!" He looked down at her and smiled. "Any thoughts of marriage right now are a little silly, don't you think? You're not even courting him! Now isn't the time to think about marriages and babies with a man –er, dwarf- you're not even courting."

Baylee couldn't help but smile at the playful tone her uncle had taken on. "Aye, that's true," she chuckled, tucking her hair behind her ear. "So…I should tell him?"

"It would be a good idea. And, if it turns out he doesn't feel the same, it'll be his loss –though I'm sure he'll be flattered." Suddenly, he stood up and offered his niece his hand. "I think it's high time we find some lunch –though, not back at the Tide. They're having pea soup for lunch and…after Annina's full diaper this morning, I don't think I could handle the sight of such a meal at the moment."

"Uncle!" she giggled. "That's disgustin'!"

He smiled, glad to hear her laughing again. "It may be, but it's also the truth. And it wasn't your trousers the diaper overflowed on."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Nori was sitting across from Dwalin, two mugs of ale sitting between them. They were in a less-than-welcoming pub on the edge of Dale and Nori was almost certain that Dwalin was the only non-thief in the place. He wondered why in the world Dwalin would bring him to such a place, especially when it looked like a few of the humans around them could easily take the two of them out.

They probably couldn't, Nori reminded himself.

"So," he said aloud. "Why'd you bring me here?" He took up his mug of ale and took a long drink, his eyes darting about. Some of the pub's patrons were eyeing the two of them curiously, though they looked away when, under the table, Nori gave them a sign letting them know he and Dwalin were untouchable. 'My Iglishmêk may be rusty,' he thought, 'but my thieves' cant is nicely oiled…'

"What? I'm not allowed t' treat a friend o' mine t' a mug o' ale?" Dwalin asked, lifting his own mug. He took a small drink of the stuff and scrunched his nose up slightly. 'I've been spoiled by Erebor and the Tankard,' he told himself. 'This almost tastes like horse dung…'

"It's just curious that you chose t' bring me here is all." He took another drink of the ale. "After all, why not enjoy a drink at the Tankard, where we're staying?" Giving Dwalin a dry look, he gave the place another cursory glance. He was surprised to find a few female thieves amongst the males –but they certainly did not look weak. Robed in black or blood red, they blended in with the shadows. What struck him, though, was that their skin ranged from a deep golden color to an almost reddish brown. 'Dorwinion folk,' he thought. He narrowed his eyes slightly, noticing that they all had a bright, yellow jewel glued to the skin just under their left eye. 'Must be some sort of group…'

Dwalin glanced over his shoulder, spotting the women as well. They were speaking in hushed voices with the pub owner. He didn't like the look of them –not that he liked the look of anyone else in this place, but something about three of them made his skin crawl.

"Why not?" he answered at last. "I mean, the Tankard can get a bit-"

Nori rolled his eyes. "Dwalin," he sighed, "don't lie. This has somethin' to do with Ori, doesn't it?" He watched as the larger dwarf fidgeted slightly. "I know you've had his eye on him –ever since Thorin's Company, you've had a crush on him. Don't try to deny it either, because I've seen the way you look at him an' act around him." He crossed his arms and leaned back in the chair, his braided brow lifted. "You want to court him, don't you? I'm not exactly the right person t' ask permission from; you'd want Dori for that, you know."

Dwalin straightened in his seat. "I don't want t' ask yer permission t' court him," he told him flatly, "because we've already been courtin' for the last three years." Glancing at Nori revealed that the star-haired dwarf didn't seem to be entirely surprised. "…Aren't yeh goin' t' hit me?"

Nori snorted. "Why?"

His brows furrowed in confusion. "Because I've been secretly courtin' yer lil' brother?"

"So what?" He drained the last of his ale. "Ori's his own person. He can make his own decisions. If he wants t' court you, so be it. Even if I refused to allow it –which, mind you, Dori may- you two would still find a way to sneak around…With Bifur and Bofur's help, no doubt." He quietly chuckled. "So you really brought me to a thief-owned pub to tell me 'bout you and Ori out of fear that we'd get into a bar fight?"

"What else was I s'posed t' think?" he asked defensively. "I mean, Dori certainly would be tryin' t' hang my head on his wall for such a thing."

"If you've not noticed –I'm not that mother hen."

"Aye, I know. But yer still Ori's brother. Don't yeh feel the least bit upset?"

He shrugged. "Aye, I do –but not towards you."

"Then yer upset with Ori?"

"A bit. I've told the lad countless times he can come to me for anythin'. I may not be the most…reliable brother in terms of helping him grow up, but he knows I don't go around spilling other people's secrets." He let out a magnificent belch, drawing some attention from the other pub patrons. Patting his stomach lightly, he chuckled. "How else do you think he's survived so long under Dori's thumb? He had me to vent to sometimes."

From the corner of his eye, Dwalin could see a man inching his way closer to the two dwarves. His brow rose; normally, the man would be doing a fair job, but Dwalin had known Nori far too long. Tossing his head back, he drank the rest of his ale in one large gulp before he, too, let out a rather loud belch.

"Truth be told, I was sort o' hopin' for a fight," he quietly admitted to Nori. There was a hint of a grin under his bushy beard. Leaning forward, he rested his elbows on the table, making it seem as if he hadn't seen the thief.

"Were you now?" Nori mused. He scratched his beard; he had noticed a different thief making his way towards them, despite his warnings of the two of them being untouchable. "Well, would it make you feel better if I told ya that there are two blokes here who don't seem to understand when a fellow borrower of fine goods tells them t' stay away?" He, too, leaned forward, lifting the back legs of the chair off of the ground.

Dwalin chuckled mischievously. "Only if said borrower o' fine goods says it's alright t' knock 'em in the gob for even thinkin' about takin' my coin." He ran a calloused finger along the metal of his knuckledusters.

"I only request that you save some for me."

Feeling the slightest of tugs on the back of his belt, Dwalin whipped around and grabbed the thief's wrists. The human barely had time to react when a powerful fist slammed into the side of his face. Nori, meanwhile, slammed the legs of his chair back onto the ground –and onto the foot of his would-be thief. A howl of pain left the man's throat. Reaching over his shoulder, Nori grabbed him by the tunic and tossed him over his head, slamming him onto the table.

"Nice one," Dwalin grinned as the whole pub jumped to its feet. He had taken a defensive stance, his back towards the wall.

"Likewise," Nori smirked. "Been awhile since I've gotten in one o' these."

"Don't lie. I know yeh got in one last week."

"I never was good at telling the truth, was I?"


	15. Chapter 15

Ori quietly hummed as he sat in a chair that was much too big for him, his hand making quick movements as he drew in his sketchbook. Every few seconds, he glanced up to check on the positioning of Baylee's arm or Annina's legs. A quiet laugh left his mouth as Annina cracked up in a fit of giggles when Baylee blew a raspberry on her bare belly. He lightly shook his head, still grinning as he brushed some hair out of his face, and looked back at his drawing. A bit of pride filled him when he saw it; it may have been a five minute sketch, but he had managed to capture Baylee and Annina's likenesses rather well. Tucking his pencil into his sketchbook, he closed it and set it aside before stretching.

He looked up again when he heard the sound of a spoon in a wooden bowl and found Lovisa stepping into the room. She gave him a smile and waved at him with her pinky as she spooned some more soup into her mouth. Annina made a cooing noise as she watched the half-dwarf push a chair towards Ori before plopping down. Grinning, Lovisa replied with a quiet bird whistle. Annina's eyes widened as the bird whistles continued.

Ori let out a small noise of surprise as Baylee got up and plopped the child in his lap. "Uh-ah…Baylee, what're you doing?" he questioned, the nervousness all too apparent in his voice.

"Lettin' ya hold Annina so she can be closer to the pretty bird noises," she explained. "Here, hold her here –aye, like that- an' then just lightly bounce her on your knee –perfect!" She smiled as she watched Ori nervously bounce Annina on his lap.

"This…this is the first time I've held a baby," he admitted. Annina was grinning toothlessly at him and Lovisa.

"Is it? I'm surprised you haven't been forced into holdin' her before now," Baylee chuckled. She covered her mouth as she yawned deeply. Lovisa frowned slightly. It was only early afternoon; she shouldn't be this tired yet…"She's a good baby, though –you've seen that."

He nodded, watching as Annina started to lean forward when Lovisa stopped whistling. "What do you see, little—oh, you've a very strong grip for a child…" He winced as he gently tried to pry her little fingers from his beard. Luckily for him, she had a short attention span and grabbed his thumb, pulling it towards her mouth. "And now I'm a chew toy…?" he murmured as she started to gum the digit.

Lovisa laughed and nodded. Setting her bowl on her lap, she started to sign. 'Baylee love chewing. Sure would bite finger off!'

Ori cracked up. "Really?" He glanced up at Baylee, whose cheeks were quickly flushing. "I can't imagine that, oddly. I can see Will being the one who bit fingers."

She shook her head as Baylee started to pick up the children's toys. 'Will had stinky diapers. Cleared room once! Giggled whole time.'

"Oh, now that's evil!" he laughed. He looked down at the baby as Annina started to babble in baby talk at him. "Is that so? Well, that's a very nice thing to say," he told her. "Though I wouldn't know how correct you are; you've yet to meet your cousin William."

Annina leaned forward, trying to grab at his beard again while continuing to babble to him, but he stuck his tongue out at her. Her eyes widened and she leaned back, startled. Slowly –ever so slowly- she raised her hand and reached for his tongue, but just as she was about to grab it, he pulled it back into his mouth. When she pulled her hand back, he stuck his tongue out again. She started to reach for it again, becoming even more perplexed when he started to wiggle his tongue.

Lovisa reached over and ruffled his hair with a chuckle before standing up. As she started to leave the room, she motioned for Baylee to come with her. Ori argued against this, but Baylee assured him that Elle was just one room over should Annina start to become fussy. Following after Lovisa, Baylee covered her mouth as she let out another yawn.

'Why tired?' Lovisa signed, a concerned look on her face.

"Just haven't been sleeping well," Baylee half-lied. She didn't want to tell her that she had been having nightmares almost every night since arriving. "Guess I'm just not used t' being away from papa an' auntie for so long."

Cocking her brow, Lovisa moved to stand in front of her, arms crossed as she looked down at her. Despite the stern look she was receiving, Baylee couldn't help but find humor in being shorter than a half dwarf.

'Tell truth,' Lovisa demanded.

"I am tellin' the truth, Lovisa," she assured her. She smiled. "I'm fine. A bit tired, aye, but it's nothin' t' get worried over. I'll just go t' bed a bit early tonight; that should help."

For a long moment, the half dwarf stared down at Baylee, not moving or signing anything. Her gold eyes fell on Baylee's green ones, searching for any hint that she could be lying, but she could only see the dark circles lining her lower eyelids and she sighed. Shaking her head, she set her hand on her shoulder, guiding her towards the kitchen.

'Know not eat yet.'

"I was watchin' Annina."

'Need eat. Leaving in morning. Need all food can get. Too skinny!'

"Everyone says that, but I eat plenty o' food!" She squeaked and twitched away from Lovisa when she poked her in the side, lightly smacking her hand away. "Don't do that!"

Lovisa grinned, her brow raised. 'See? Too skinny.'

Baylee cocked her brow. "No. I'm just ticklish there."

'Not if had more meat on bones.'

Letting herself be dragged into the kitchen, she sighed in defeat. "Between you an' Eira, I don't think I've a choice t' refuse food or not."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Potato."

"Khulug."

"No, no: Po-tay-toe."

"Khulug."

"Po."

"…Po."

"Tay."

"Tay…"

"Toe."

"Toe."

"Potato!"

"Potalug."

Bifur let out a curse in frustration and rubbed his forehead.

Bofur patted him on the back. "You've almost got it, Bifur! Don't get discourage. C'mon –one more time. Po-tay-toe."

Heaving a great sigh and keeping his face buried in his hands, Bifur concentrated. "Po…tay…toe. Pota…Potato? Potato!"

"Aha! See? Ya just needed a wee bit o' patience!" He grinned broadly at his cousin before holding up a block of cheese. "Now what's this?"

"Cheese."

"An' this?" He held up a sausage this time.

"S-saus-sage. Sausage."

"Good, good…This one?" He held up a strange, curved knife from his carving kit.

For a moment, Bifur was quiet. Until 'potato', this tool had been one of the hardest to relearn the Westron words for –in Khuzdul, it was just a simple mimâbar. In Westron, though…"Ha…hall…hallowing…kn-knife. Ha-hallowing knife."

Bofur's grin grew even larger as he, at last, held up the potato. "Last one, I promise."

"Potato!"

"Good! You're gettin' better, you are!" He slid a tall mug of mead towards his cousin –his reward for learning all those new words in one night. "Soon, we'll have to start on full sentences."

Bifur felt a bit daunted by the prospect, but hid it well as he took a drink of the mead. Bofur's enthusiasm, however, was a bit contagious and he felt rather proud of himself. For the past three nights, the two of them had been working on re-teaching Bifur the Westron names for things –not that he had forgotten what they were, just how to say them.

"Arnâkzu abùshâg'ala?" he asked as Bofur cleaned up the table a bit and pulled out a small, wooden box.

"O' course I do, Bifur. You're one o' the most determined dwarrows I know," he chirped, pulling off his gloves and setting them aside before opening the box. "It'll take you some time, but you'll be speakin' Westron again in no time. Just you wait an' see." He smiled reassuringly before laying down a white, cloth napkin on the table top and carefully tipping the box over, spilling its contents onto the cloth.

Bifur slid the candles closer to Bofur so that he could see his work better. He watched as a few tiny gems tried to roll away, but his cousin stopped them and tapped them back towards the nearly-finished bracelet. Leaning over, he tilted his head to get a better look; this was the first time he had gotten a good look at the thing. Bofur normally worked on it after he had gone to bed, not wanting to be distracted.

"Kuf mez khidu?" he murmured, carefully plucking up one of the charms. It was shaped like a sunflower with three of the petals being tiny bits of yellow topaz. Setting it down, he watched his cousin grab a different charm –this one being shaped like a bluebell.

"Because the workshop is covered in wood shavings an' I'm hungry," Bofur replied. He pulled a small pair of tweezers from his kit and used them to carefully lift up blue stone –lapis lazuli, by the looks of it- and set it into place on the flower. He frowned slightly and turned the stone over. "Hm. This side or this one?" He turned the stone over twice more, waiting for Bifur's opinion.

"Tada ze," Bifur murmured. "Kuk khaghol ughlekh." He motioned at the tiny vein of dark blue cross over the stone's surface.

Nodding, Bofur turned it just slightly to better fit the mold better before grabbing another tool that looked very much like a pick. He barely glanced up as Will came over to the table, untying an apron from around his waist and yawning while he sat down. He was covered in bits of flour and paint –tributes to helping Bifur, Bofur, and Galiene throughout the day.

Bifur cocked his head. 'Look tired. Long day?'

"Aye…All that paintin' an' carving for you two combined with having to haul in sacks o' flour an' grain for Galiene and Adela has got me worn out," he chuckled. "But I don't mind it. It gives me somethin' to do."

'Keep busy good. Too busy not good.' He took another drink of his mead as he glanced around the inn. It had been rather quiet the last few days, which was a bit nice.

"Don't worry. It's almost impossible to keep me 'too busy'," Will chuckled, leaning back in the chair. He covered his mouth with the back of his hand as he yawned again.

'That not convincing," Bifur sighed with a small laugh.

"I'm fine," he laughed, grinning. "I'm just pleasantly worn out. Have you lads ordered anything to eat yet?"

"No," Bofur answered him, despite not looking up from his work. "We've been workin' on Bifur's Westron for the last hour…though, I suppose it's about time we did eat something." He glanced up for just a bit –but only to hold one of the charms over a candle with the tweezers. The three males watched as a hair-thin sheet of solder slowly melted atop the charm.

Will watched, thoroughly interested, as the silver liquid flowed off the lapis lazuli and into the small grooves that had been made in the metal. "So, how come that metal melts, but the rest doesn't?" he inquired.

"I'm not even sure about that," Bofur chuckled. "I'm not normally workin' with jewelry. I just know that it's solder an' it's got a real low melting point."

He nodded in understanding. "But I see you've got some skill with jewelry. Who taught you?"

"One o' my uncles," he replied with a small laugh. "He was hopin' I'd follow in his footsteps instead o' my da's footsteps. Anyway…I know just enough t' do this sort o' stuff an' to make some fancy toys."

"It seems a lot of dwarves dabble in more than one kind of craft." He reached up and rubbed his left shoulder, feeling a bit of an ache starting to throb.

Bifur shook his head. 'Most have just one. Odd have more than one. Bofur odd.'

Snorting, Will nodded in agreement. "A bit, but a likable sort o' odd."

"Hm?" Bofur glanced up. "What's likably odd?"

"Zu," Bifur chirped."Durjzu."

Bofur rolled his eyes with a small chuckle. "Ha, ha. I'm not that odd."

"Well, it's true," Will grinned. "Everyone's odd in their own way. I mean, look at me 'n Baylee."

'Not seem odd,' Bifur told him. 'Seem normal.'

"Oh, we are so weird. We like watchin' storms, we love t' wrestle, an' we both don't really like carrot cake or pig meat. Bacon bein' an exception, o' course." He winced when he felt something in his shoulder pop, but the dull throbbing ceased and he sighed in relief. "Not to mention, we're both odd just by how we look."

At that, both Bofur and Bifur looked up and gave him a frown. "Neither o' you look odd," Bofur scolded. "You're a fine young lad an' Baylee's a beautiful young lass."

His brow cocking, Will snorted. "I meant the fact that we're twins…but we don't look anythin' alike, save for our eyes."

"O-oh…" Bofur's cheeks flushed red and he quickly looked back down at his work.

Standing, Will grabbed his apron. "So, what do the two o' you want for dinner?"

"Steak," Bifur said. He grinned proudly; he had relearned that word the previous night. "Ch-chips. T-tom-tomatoes." He lurched forward slightly as Will heartily patted him on the back; he was strong for a human.

"You're doin' good with relearning Westron," he smiled. "Anything else for you?"

He nodded. 'Fried tomatoes?' he inquired, signing.

"Aye, that can be done," he replied. "Anything for you, Bofur?"

"What sort o' soup or stew was made today?" He didn't look up from his work.

"Potato an' ham stew."

"Hmm…" He scratched his beard for a moment, thinking about his order. "Steak 'n stew," he replied. "Aye, that should do me for now, lad."

Nodding, Will moved to take their order to Galiene. As he came into the kitchen, he found Adela putting some pies into the oven while Wenna wiped off a counter. Across the kitchen, Galiene was stirring the stew and dropping in some more chunks of ham. Demelza was sitting on a stool, wrapping a small bandage around two of her fingers. He frowned and went over to her.

"What did you do?" he demanded, lightly taking up her hand and inspecting the wound. She had a rather large cut across her index and middle finger.

"Was chopping the ham up and the knife slipped," she told him. "Don't worry, it's nothin' serious. They didn't even bleed much. Don't worry; I didn't bleed on the ham."

He snorted and started to properly wrap her fingers up. "I didn't even think of that until you mentioned it." He glanced over his shoulder. "Got some orders up for you, Galiene."

"Alright. What're they?" she called. She dipped a spoon into the stew so she could taste it. After a second, she reached over and grabbed a large pinch of pepper that she tossed into the pot.

"Two steaks, an order o' chips an' fried tomatoes, an' a bowl of stew." He tied the bandages off on Demelza's hand. "There ya go, auntie. Probably not as good as uncle's work, but it should do ya for a day or two."

She nodded. "Thank-you, lad." Standing up, she brushed her apron off, watching as tiny bits of meat and dough fell onto the floor.

"Wenna, will ya fetch two steaks from the cellar?" Galiene asked. "Make sure they're hearty ones. I have a feelin' they're for Bifur an' Bofur."

"That they are," Will grinned. He went over to Adela and wrapped his arms around her waist, his chin resting on her shoulder. "The kitchen smells nicer 'n normal. Is there some new food bein' made or anything?"

Galiene shrugged. "Well, there are two cooks now, so there is a chance," she chuckled. "Speakin' o' good smells, lad…Your birthday's soon! What sort of cake do you want?"

Adela perked. "Yes! I need t' know so I can get all the proper ingredients gathered up! Oh, an' what sort o' cake d'ya think Baylee will want? I know there's a slim chance she'll actually be here in time for your birthday, but she should still get one whenever she gets home."

He laughed. "Normally we just have one cake that we share," he told her. "We've never had our own cakes."

"Though it's a good idea," Demelza added, "since you have this strange tradition o' smashing your sister's face into her cake." At that, Galiene and Will laughed.

"That's what she gets for bein' born first." He kissed Adela's cheek. "I like anythin' you make, so you can surprise me on that front –except carrot cake. No carrot cake for the either o' us. Blegh. Carrot cake."

"What's wrong with carrot cake?" Adela pouted. "It's delicious!"

Galiene giggled quietly. "Oh dear…She had t' ask that…" She took the steaks from Wenna as she came up the stairs from the cellar.

Will scrunched his nose up. "It's just not right, having a vegetable bein' a cake. I mean, carrots are good enough on their own or in stews an' salads, but in cake? Let alone the fact that they make the cake orange. Cakes shouldn't be orange, even when they have oranges in them! Oh, and don't even get me started on carrot cake with raisins in it…" He shook his head. "It's just not right."

Adela raised her brow, giving him a dry look. "William, you're a strange one." She reached up and patted him atop the head. "What about your sister?"

"Lemon cake with raspberries," everyone chorused.

She blinked…but chuckled. "Alright. I'm sure we don't have raspberries, but I can most definitely make a lemon cake." She brushed some hair over her shoulder before grabbing some potatoes to cut up. "I never figured her t' be one who likes sour things…" She wriggled out of Will's grip, giggling quietly. "Let go, lad…"

Will pouted and reluctantly let go so she could work.

"Oh, she loves lemons," Demelza chuckled. She grabbed some tomatoes to cut up for Galiene. "When she was little, she'd steal lemon slices from the kitchen an' would just nibble on 'em." She shook her head. "It was so funny watching her make the sour faces…"

"She still makes 'em," Galiene chuckled. "Just when she's angry!"

Snorting, Will nodded as he grabbed a bowl for Bofur's stew. "Not that we see that often."

"No –we see it more from you, lad," Galiene grinned. "You wear the same look when something's got you vexed."

"I do not!"

"Do too," Demelza agreed.

"I do not!" he frowned.

Adela quietly giggled. "I don't know…ya look plenty sour right now, love."

He pouted and crossed his arms. "Do not…"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Ori knocked on the door to Baylee's room, listening for any response. Hearing none, he tried knocking again, but there was still no sound from within. His brows furrowing, he opened the door and poked his head in, though he couldn't see much; it was still well before dawn. What he could make out, though, was the curled up figure on the bed that was Baylee.

Crossing the room, he found that Baylee was curled up in a small ball and was clutching a pillow to her chest; she was shaking. He frowned slightly and reached over, giving her a shake. "Baylee, time t' get up," he told her. A small yelp left his mouth as she bolted upright with a curse, shoving herself into the corner of her bed. "Wh-whoa, Baylee –it's just me, Ori!"

She was tense for a moment longer. Letting out a sigh, she slumped against the wall. "S-sorry, Ori…" Rubbing her face, she plopped the pillow beside her.

"Are you alright?" he frowned.

"Aye," she murmured. "Just a bad dream is all. Nothin' t' worry over."

He clamored up onto the bed and sat beside her, setting his hand on her shoulder. "Are you sure you're alright?" He didn't like that she was still shaking.

She nodded slowly. "I'm fine," she again told him. "I get 'em all the time." Swallowing hard, she closed her eyes and leaned back against the wall. 'Though, they had been on the decline…' she thought.

"That doesn't seem normal," he frowned, his hand still on her shoulder. "Are…are they anything in particular? You don't have to tell me if you don't-"

"The War."

"…The War?"

She nodded. "Aye. Not all o' it. Just…parts." Rubbing her face again, she sighed. "Thanks for wakin' me. Normally, I manage t' wake myself up, but I don't think I would have been able to this time…"

"What happens if you don't?"

"I wake everyone else up with my screamin'." A half-hearted smile came to her lips. "First few weeks after the War, the elves had t' give me some sort o' potion t' make me have a dreamless sleep because I kept wakin' everyone else up. Sometimes I wish I still had that potion, but Tauriel told me tha' most o' it was used up in the weeks followin' the war and that it's awful expensive t' make."

He rubbed her back, trying to help ease her shaking. "Do you need anything? I don't have dreamless potions, but I can get you some tea or something…Maybe your uncle? He's good with this sort o' thing."

Shaking her head, she stretched out her legs which accidentally knocked the pillows off of the bed. "Thank you, though." Leaning over, she gave Ori a tight hug, smiling when he returned it. "It's always good t' know I've got friends who fret over me."

He smiled, glad to see her feeling better. "Eira and Richard have breakfast going and Elle's preparing a bunch of food for our packs."

"Alright. I guess we shouldn't keep them waiting too long, hm?" She slid out of bed and reached for her trousers before pausing and glancing over her shoulder. "You run on ahead. I'll be out in a minute. Just need to get dressed."

He blinked and his cheeks flushed. "Oh, o-of course, sorry!" Scrambling off of the bed, he hurried out of the room, hearing Baylee giggle behind him.

Heading for the kitchen, he could smell sausages and bacon cooking. His stomach rumbled loudly and he frowned, looking down at it. "Hush, you," he scolded. "You'll get fed soon enough."

"Who are you talking to?"

Looking up, he felt his cheeks flush as he saw Richard wiping his hands on a towel. "My stomach," he replied. "It's being impatient again."

"It normally is," he chuckled. "Especially at this hour. Did ya get Baylee up?"

"Yes. She's getting dressed, then she'll be out."

Nodding in understanding, Richard motioned for Ori to follow him into the kitchen, where Elle and Eira were bustling about the kitchen. It was still much too early for their cook to be there. Eira handed him a large plate of food, ushering him to sit at the counter while she moved to finish preparing her father's breakfast.

He was halfway finished with his food and Richard just starting his when Baylee came in, yawning and rubbing her eyes. She smiled at her family only to squeak as she, too, got a plate thrust into her hands. Elle chuckled, shaking her head as she watched her sit down.

"You look startled by your food," she told her.

"I am –a little bit," admitted Baylee. She stared down at the food, poking at it with her spoon. "I walk in expectin' tea an' instead I get lots o' food." She smiled, albeit tiredly, and started to eat. In all honesty, she didn't feel very hungry –not after having that nightmare- but she knew that they had a long day ahead of them, so food was needed.

"I'm going to miss this sausage," Richard mused. "We don't have apple wood in Dale and it always made the best smoked sausages…" He stabbed his knife into his final sausage and took a bite from it. He blinked as two more sausages appeared on his plate and he looked over at Baylee, who had an innocent look on her face as she ate some of her toast. "Baylee…"

"I had a link already," she told him. "It's fine." She dipped the corner of her toast into the yolk of her fried egg. "I'm more o' a fan o' maple sausage."

He gave her a long look before returning to his food. "Next time, you're eating all your own food," he told her. "Especially since we'll be walking and riding our way to Dale."

"Oh don't you start on 'bout how I'm apparently too skinny, too," she groaned. "Lovisa and Eira are already harpin' on me about this."

Eira cracked up. "I have done no such thing!" she laughed. "I'm merely trying to help you grow a few inches taller!"

"I think she's reached the tallest she'll get, love," Richard told her. "Not that it's a bad thing to be small."

"Just look at us dwarrows," Ori added. "We're small, but strong." He slid his final egg and a piece of bacon onto his last piece of toast.

Richard nodded. "You just need a stepstool to reach the top shelves." He smiled innocently as Ori pouted, earning a giggle from Baylee. "Or, be like Baylee and climb up her brother instead of getting a stepstool."

"Will's far more reliable than a stool," she told him. "A stool can only help me reach the bottom shelves. Will gets me t' the stop shelf." A cheeky grin came to her lips before she took a drink from her tea.

Ori chuckled quietly. "I don't think Nori or Dori would appreciate me climbing up on them just to reach a shelf, but I know other dwarrows who have done such things. Bifur and Bofur come to mind…And I one watch Balin jump off Dwalin's head to climb a tree."

Elle cocked her head. "Do all dwarven families have names that sound similar?"

"Hm?" Ori scratched his beard. "How do you mean?"

"Well…Ori, Nori, Dori…Balin, Dwalin…They sound alike. Is that how it is with all dwarven families or just an odd coincidence?" she asked, sitting down on a stool. She hid a yawn behind her hand.

He shrugged. "Most of the families I know have names like that. I guess it's just easier to remember them all that way?" He shrugged again. "I know my friend, Bombur, has eight children, but only five of them have names that sound alike."

Baylee giggled. "'Only five'…" she murmured. "To me, it sounds like it could end up bein' a pain after a while –especially if they're close in age. Imagine callin' for one child, but you use the wrong name because you couldn't remember if they were this one or tha' one."

He laughed. "I do that, sometimes, with Bombur's eldest three sons. It's easy to confuse those three, though –they are rather close in age and they all look the same. So I'll end up calling Biriz Baraz or Baraz Berez…" He shook his head. "Bifur and Bofur never mess 'em up though. I guess it's easier if you're family?"

"If Baylee and William had similar names, I think we would have been in trouble," Elle mused. "Imagine –William and Wilhema?"

Sticking her tongue out, Baylee made a noise of disgust. "I am most definitely not a Wilhema."

"Then Baylee and Bryni," Richard laughed. "Ah, but you two look nothing alike, so I think we would have been fairly safe."

"We've the same eyes," Baylee pouted. "An' freckles!"

"Will has freckles?" Ori asked. "I don't think I've noticed them before…"

"They're not all that noticeable until summer," she explained, "not t' mention he's got those scars coverin' half his face. But durin' the summer…" she quietly laughed and stood up, taking her plate to the sink, "he gets just as many freckles as me, if not more."

He blinked, trying to picture the sight, but failed. "That I cannot picture; then again, you've a fair bit o' freckles yourself."

She looked at her arms, grinning at the little brow dots covering her skin. "Aye, that I do. An' I get more durin' summer, too –granted, that's if I'm outside long enough t' get some sun."

"When we were younger, we would steal pots of ink from our parents' desks and we'd try connecting all the freckles together into pictures," Elle laughed. "Poor Baylee would get absolutely covered in ink –head to toe!- and boy did Lovisa give us a spankin'!"

As Baylee turned around, she found that Lovisa was standing in the doorway, fully dressed and with her bow and quiver strapped to her back. No one else had seemed to notice the half dwarf, amusing her somewhat as she leaned against the doorframe. Only the rattling of her long knife tapping against the wood alerted the rest of the kitchen to her presence.

"Ah, Lovisa!" Elle chuckled, a hint of nervousness in her voice. "We were just talking about you."

'Heard. Spoke of young days when was nurse.' Her brow rose as she hoarsely chuckled. 'Not give much spanking. Mostly gave long baths. Much scrubbing.'

"Why do ya have your huntin' gear on? You're not goin' off on the hunt again so soon, are ya?" Baylee inquired, brows furrowed.

She shook her head. 'Going with you.'

Richard and Baylee both perked. "You are?" asked the former.

'Yes. Want see Will, Warren. May visit Erebor. Hope fun. More dwarves than have seen in life!' She smiled warmly at them before coming in and dishing herself a plate of food. She didn't want to tell them her true motivation for visiting Dale, however; she knew full well that her adoptive family would grow a bit worried if they found out that she badly wanted to cease her life as a huntswoman. The human in her had been growing more tired as the years passed and, while the dwarf in her kept her body young and strong, she felt old. Having no idea of when she would pass on, she wished for nothing more than to settle down with a man –or dwarf- who would love her until the end.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Are you absolutely _positive_ that they'll be here in two days?"

"Aye, Master Braddock, I'm positive. They should be campin' at the Way Stone tonight."

Warren nodded, unable to hide his grin. "Good…good. Then they'll be back in time for Baylee an' Will's birthday," he thought aloud. "Thank-you, Torin. Tell Wenna tha' you're to have a drink o' your choice –on the house, mind you."

The young soldier grinned and nodded. "Thank-you, Master Braddock!" He dashed off, eager to get that free alcohol after riding for two days.

Warren, meanwhile, left the common room and burst into the kitchen, where Demelza, Adela, and Galiene were bustling about. Will sat on a stool, peeling potatoes while Gawen was hurriedly washing dishes. "Lads an' lasses: We shall have Baylee, Ori, an' Richard back in two days' time!" he declared.

"Two days!? I need to buy lemons!" Adela cried, despite the happiness on her features.

"I need to launder my dresses!" Demelza gaped, her eyes wide.

Galiene shook her head at the two of them. "You can do that after you finish helpin' me with all this cookin'!" she lightly scolded. "C'mon –Demelza, that soup isn't goin' t' stir itself. Adela, back t' the meat pies." She plucked up her spoon and went back to mixing a bowl full of various ingredients. "But thank-you for the update, Warren." She gave him a tired smile.

He pouted slightly. "Galiene, you've a duty, too, when they get back."

"Oh? An' what's that?" she chuckled, grabbing a handful of flour and sprinkling it over her bowl. "Makin' sure Baylee hasn't forgotten how t' carry a tray o' food?" she joked.

Shaking his head, he grabbed up an apron and took the peeling knife from Will. "Lad, you're needed out there," he ordered, motioning at the door behind him. "You, on the other hand, Galiene, are goin' t' be makin' Baylee an' Will's favorite meals. It's their birthday, after all!"

She stopped, her eyes widening. "Goodness me, it is, isn't it?" she gaped. "I had forgotten! No wonder Adela got so worried!"

"I don't get needlessly worried!" Adela chuckled, glancing at Will as he gave his hands a quick wash. "I hope there are still lemons to be had in the market…I suppose I could use dried or candied ones, but they just don't have the same flavor as the fresh ones."

"We may have a few down in the cellar. Will manages t' always bring us extra of whatever fruits they get in Dorwinion," Demelza told her.

"I'll check after I finish these pies."

"When you're done there, Warren, could ya slice four o' those 'taters into thin circles? Not too thin, mind you."

Will shook his head and plucked up an apron. He tied it around his waist as he headed out into the common room, where he found Wenna running about, bringing ale, beer, or mead to various patrons. Grabbing a tray, he started to meander around the room, chatting with a few of the customers or getting them fresh drinks, all the while assuring them that dinner was going to be ready quite soon.

Eventually, he made his way over to the dwarves' table. Nori, Dwalin, and Bifur were having a game of cards while Bofur was polishing something. "How's everythin' over here, lads?" he inquired, leaning a hand on the table.

"Just fine, laddie," Dwalin replied. He had an intense look of concentration on his face as he looked through his hand. Finally, he pulled a card out and laid it on the table. A two of knives. "Though, our drinks are gettin' a wee bit low."

Nodding, he set his tray down, starting to gather the mugs up. "Just got word tha' Ori, Baylee, and the rest should be back in two days," he casually told them.

Dwalin gave him a subtle glance, wanting to keep his eyes mostly on Nori. Bofur, however, perked right up, his eyes wide. "Is tha' so?" he asked. "Isn't that you're birthday?"

"Aye, it is." He reached for Bofur's mug only to frown slightly; it was more than half full. "What's this? Startin' to lose your taste for beer, Bofur?"

His cheeks turned a bit red. "No, I was just…" he shifted slightly and glanced away, "just finishing up this present for your sister."

Will's brow rose and he grinned. "Can I see it?" he teasingly asked.

For a moment, Bofur fumbled with the bracelet, his polishing cloth hiding it from view. Then, with a small, almost reluctant sigh, he held out his palm and uncovered the piece of the jewelry for Will to see. "It's not too good," he mumbled.

Will frowned as he looked the bracelet over; it may not have been perfect, but it was far better craftsmanship than anything Baylee currently owned. "You think this isn't good? She's going to love this!"

"R-Really?"

"Aye! Especially the rainbow o' gems you used. They're bright and sparkly; she's a sucker for bright an' sparkly things." He smiled, patting him reassuringly on the back. "She's going t' love it –just you watch."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Ori yawned, his head slowly tilting down towards his chest. When his horse let out a loud snort, he snapped upright and nervously looked around to see if anyone had caught him trying to doze off. Thankfully, though, it was still dark out and no one had seen him –or so he thought.

A flask was suddenly pushed into his hands. To his left, he could just barely make out a small smile on Lovisa's lips as she motioned for him to drink. Not wanting to argue, he uncorked the flask but sniffed it first; the scent of strong, black tea filled his nose and he took a small drink, not wanting to scald his tongue. A shiver ran down his spine as the liquid's heat spread throughout his body, earning a sigh of content from the young dwarf.

"Thank-you," he murmured, handing the flask back to her.

She nodded, taking it from him before taking a drink herself. Turning in the saddle, she looked back at Richard and Baylee; Richard was wide awake and chatting idly with his niece, who seemed a bit slumped over. Chuckling, she reached into a pouch on her belt and pulled out a small pebble, tossing it at the human woman.

Bolting upright as the pebble hit her head, Baylee glanced around in all directions. "Who threw that?" she demanded, rubbing the spot.

"Who threw what?" Richard asked, pretending to be oblivious.

"Someone just hit me with a pebble." She turned around, but couldn't see much in the darkness besides the forms of mounted soldiers. Behind them, she knew that there was a large wagon filled with various goods, so it could not have come from that direction. "Ugh! When I find out who's been throwin' them, I'm goin' t' kick their arse t' the Misty Mountains an' back!"

Richard cocked his brow, amused by his niece's idle threat. He knew full well where the pebble had come from; Lovisa had been tossing them at Ori and Baylee the past week in an attempt to keep them awake in the saddle. He noticed that her aim had gotten much better –the first few days, she had ended up hitting their shoulders or their knees.

"Whoever threw it," he told his niece, "did you a favor. You were startin' to fall asleep again." He pulled up his own flask of tea and took a long, slow drink.

Grumbling, she rubbed her eyes. "That's because the soldiers wanted t' get up an' get movin' so early," she yawned. "No matter what, we'll reach home today. What difference would a couple more hours o' sleep make?"

"You'd be surprised, love. Drink some of your tea; it'll help wake you up."

Sighing, she did as she was told. If anything, though, the tea only managed to make her want to go back to sleep even more.

Within the hour, the eastern sky began to change from black to violet to pink. The first rays of sunlight streaked across the inky blackness, banishing the night from the land and allowing the travelers to see just where they were. From the front of the group, a cheer rose up –In the distance, the white walls of Dale could be seen rising above the flat plain. Behind the city stood the Lonely Mountain, its eastern face shining brightly while the rest of its sheer slops were left shrouded in darkness.

Baylee pulled her pony alongside Ori's, making sure to stay to the left of him when she noticed that he had pulled out his sketchbook. "You can draw an' ride at the same time?" Leaning over, she could make out small portraits of her, Richard, and Lovisa as well as some of the soldiers and doodles of plant life. He was quite good at drawing and she almost envied him for his skill.

"I'm trying to," he chuckled, his eyes darting up to look at Dale and Erebor. "I just really want t' capture the sight. If only I had my colors with me, then I could show Dwalin how beautiful it is!" He frowned, but continued his sketch. He doubted Dwalin could really appreciate a sight such as this, but the dwarf had surprised him on more than one occasion with his softer side.

Glancing up, Baylee saw that Dale had been dyed rosy pink by the early morning sun. It was a rather pretty color, especially against the cool, bluish grey of the Lonely Mountain behind it. She bit her tongue as she thought about finally getting to sleep in her own bed and seeing her father and brother again. Not to mention all of her friends…And, of course, Bofur…

Her cheeks grew warm at the thought of seeing him again and the fluttery feeling in her stomach returned –as it did every time she thought about Bofur. This time, though, the feeling was stronger, leaving her feeling almost scared to return home.

'I'll tell him after a good nap,' she told herself. 'That way I don't seem like I'm loopy from a lack of sleep. And I could, maybe, handle a rejection better with a bit more rest…'

Lovisa tapped her on the shoulder, drawing her out of her thoughts. 'Alright?'

"Fine. Just thinking," she replied, smiling. "Why?"

Her pale brow rose as she looked at Baylee; she didn't believe her. 'Cheeks red. Look nervous. Get sick?'

"No, no…I'm not gettin' sick, I promise," she chuckled. "I'm just…ah…"

'What?'

Baylee's cheeks grew even redder as she dropped the reigns in favor of signing. 'Think about dwarf.'

'Ori?'

She quickly shook her head. 'No! Ori have lad.'

'Lad?' Her brows furrowed in confusion.

'Yes. Lad. Strong dwarf. Name Dwalin. Cute couple.'

Nodding slowly, Lovisa leaned forward in the saddle, looking at Ori. He was too absorbed in his drawing to pay them any heed. 'As long as happy. Who your lad?'

'Not lad. Not know I like him. Name Bofur.'

She made an 'ahhh' sort of expression. 'Going tell him?'

'Yes. Nervous.'

'Sure he accept.'

Baylee snorted. 'Not sure. Wait, see. Maybe lucky.'

She shrugged, nodding. 'Is birthday. Luck on side?'

"Wait, what?" she said aloud. "It's my birthday today?"

'Thirteen May. Yes.' She giggled as Baylee became utterly baffled. 'How not know?!'

"I lost track o' time while we were travelin'," she murmured, rubbing the back of her head. Slowly, she started to laugh. "Well, this'll be a nice present for Will, won't it? This will be the first birthday we can celebrate together in three years!"

'Really?'

She nodded. "He's been in Dorwinion the last three." She grinned broadly; she had Will's present with her pack in the wagon. It had cost her most of her spending money, but it would serve him better than a new pair of boots –especially if Bofur and Bifur were to train him in the art of toy-making. Anyway, Will could always use a new set of fine chisels.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Is this high enough?"

"Hmm…Can ya go just a few inches higher?"

Will stood on his tiptoes, pressing the end of the cloth streamer against the ceiling. "This high enough?" he asked, a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

"Perfect! Tack it there an' I'll get the next bunch ready for you!"

His brow rose as he glanced over his shoulder, watching Adela race across the common room. Rolling his eyes, he quietly laughed and tapped a small nail into place so that the streamers wouldn't fall. "I'm startin' t' smell that lemon cake," he called, "an' that rum cake!"

She giggled as she gathered together a set of green, yellow, and white cloth streamers. "Do they smell good?" she asked.

"It smells quite delicious," Dwalin replied. He currently stood beneath Nori, who was also tacking some streamers up. "Reminds me o' the cakes my mum used t' make. Never could find a baker as good as her. We'll have t' see about yer bakin', though."

"Alright, this end's up," Nori told Will. Hopping down from Dwalin's shoulders, he looked up at the blue, grey, and white string as Will finished tacking it up. "An' I agree. The cakes smell delicious. I wonder if the birthday lad an' lass are goin' t' be willin' t' share?" He wore a grin as he took one end of the streamers from Adela.

Dwalin cocked his brow as they headed for the opposite corner of the room. "Like yeh've ever shared. Yeh'll find a way t' steal a slice or two, I'm sure o' it."

"Maybe." With a grin, he leapt up into Dwalin's hand before hopping onto his shoulders once more.

Will shook his head as he walked over to Adela and kissed her cheek. "I think we've got the common room covered, love. Why don't ya sit a spell an' just wait for the cakes t' finish baking? After all, we don't need you overworkin' yourself." He managed to keep himself from wincing; not wanting to worry the others, he hadn't told them that, for the better part of the day, his stomach had been feeling off. He wasn't sure if it was him getting sick or nerves about giving Baylee her birthday present.

"But they could be gettin' back at any moment," she pouted.

He laughed and gave her a reassuring kiss on the lips as he held her shoulders. "Everything's going t' be fine. You need to rest. Save your energy for when ya give Baylee our present."

She glanced up at him, her cheeks a bit red. "Are you sure about that? I mean, telling her first…After all, she doesn't even know that I live here now."

"I'm sure. I've always told her everything first anyway; why do it different now?" He gave her a small wink. "Go one. Go have some tea or something."

Nodding, she turned and let out a small laugh as he urged her forward by lightly smacking her bum. She attempted to give him a scolding glare from over her shoulder, but her grin was only all-too-obvious.

As Adela ducked back into the kitchen, Bofur and Bifur came into the inn. The shoulders of Bofur's shirt and the back of Bifur's jacket were damp from their hair, letting the others know that they had bathed that morning. Both of them carried two wooden boxes 'sealed' shut by some blue, silk ribbon.

"Happy birthday, lad!" Bofur chirped.

"Tanakmâ mahkhajimu!" Bifur declared, holding up his two presents.

Will laughed, feeling the ache in his stomach lessen slightly. "Thank-you. An' we'll be openin' presents after dinner. It's a tradtion o' dad's t' make Baylee an' me wait all day to build up anticipation."

Bofur nodded. "So, where should we set these, then?"

"Behind the bar there should be good." He grabbed another set of streamers and moved to tack them to the center of the room.

"Ugh, can yeh get off now? We've finished with our steamers an' yeh weigh a lot."

"Odd; I thought you said you could carry my weight for hours on end?" Nori put his hands on his hips as he looked down at Dwalin. "Or is the big, strong warrior not as strong as he thought he was?"

Dwalin looked up at him, no humor on his features. "Yer big feet are diggin' into my neck an' it's startin' t' give me a pain!" With a shrug, he sent Nori flying off of his shoulders. Nori, however, easily caught himself and, with a small roll, sprang upright, brushing himself off.

"I had been about to hop off, you impatient lout," he scolded, feeling his hair. It was still nicely pointed and he was content.

Leaning against the wall, Dwalin looked at him blandly. "Mhm. Yeh liked being up high so yeh could feel tall for once."

"Oh, stop your bickerin'," Bofur told them. "Or, if you don't want to, take it t' one o' those seedy pubs Nori likes so much."

Will raised his brow. "Seedy pubs?" he repeated, but he went unheard.

"I don't 'like' them. They're just…handy at times." He tucked the knife he had used as a hammer back into his belt. "And it's not like I've visited one in a while –except the one Dwalin 'treated' me to last week."

His brow rose higher. "Are you talkin' about the pub that had the big bar fight?" Both Nori and Dwalin looked away, trying to appear innocent. "I should have known. Some o' my friends were saying that it was started by two dwarves…"

"We didn't start it, exactly –the blokes tryin' to steal from us did," Nori corrected.

"But we sure as halite finished it!" Dwalin grinned.

Will opened his mouth to speak but he was cut off as the door to the inn slammed open. To his horror, he watched as his uncle and a woman ran in, both streaked with blood and dirt.

"Will, where's your father!?" Richard demanded, grabbing him by the collar. Outside, the city's warning bells were ringing.

"H-he's in the market. Why?" He looked between the two people. "Uncle, Lovisa –what happened!? Where's Baylee?! Where's Ori?"

Richard swallowed hard, his jaw shaking. "Baylee an' Ori were kidnapped."


	16. Chapter 16

"They had the gall to raid a caravan _that_ close to the city!?"

"They were strong, milord –This was no mindless rabble of orcs seeking a pleasure kill. This was a group o' humans riding wargs o' all things."

"How long did the fight last?"

"It couldn't have been more than fifteen minutes. They used Mother and Child rocks as cover; they had been on us in an instant. Three of our number were killed with five more injured. We managed to kill four of their numbers and took one of them prisoner."

"But that doesn't bring Baylee, Ori, and Tyko back. You said they were riding wargs? Not horses?"

"Yes, milord –wargs. How they tamed them, we'll never know. I only ever thought orcs were crazy enough t' ride them."

Will let out a shaky sigh and buried his face in his palms. The viciousness of wargs was well known to him; to know his little sister was now around a pack of them…

Across from him, his father hit the table with his fist. "We need t' go after them," Warren growled, "an' then teach those bastards tha' we don't tolerate raiders an' kidnappers!" There was a small chorus of agreeing cheers.

Bard raised his hand, bringing silence to the room. "I would agree to that if only we knew what direction they had gone in after the battle and if they were riding horses, not wargs. Wargs can travel farther and for longer distances than horses. For all we know, they could be leagues away by now."

"Th-There's another thing, milord," one of the soldiers piped up. He winced as a pale Richard tied a bandage around his upper arm. "All of the raiders…they were all women."

His brows furrowed. "All women? Are you sure of this?"

The soldier nodded. "I swear to Manwë, my lord. They may have fought like men, but they were most definitely women. I've never heard of anything of the sort."

"What did they look like?" someone asked. For a moment, Will almost thought it sounded like Dwalin, but he not said a word since the meeting started.

"I…I can't say for certain. They were blurs of red, black, and brown –an' their faces were covered," the soldier replied. "The one we captured, though, has a gem under her left eye. I think it could be a sign o' rank?"

A chair quietly scraped back behind Will and Nori slid out of his seat. Keeping his head ducked, he made his way through the crowd before leaving the inn. He had two places to go to –that seedy pub and the city's jail. The pub would probably give him more information, given the right methods of persuasion, so he headed there first.

"Nori, wait up."

Brows furrowing, he turned around to see Bofur sprinting to catch up with him. "You shouldn't be out here," he told him, speaking in Khuzdul. He didn't want to be understood by humans at the moment. "You should still be in the meetin'."

"You know somethin' about this, elsewise you wouldn't have left the inn in such a hurry." He stopped just a foot short of Nori, his eyes fixing on his. "Whatever you find out, I want t' find out, too."

For a moment, Nori was silent. He wouldn't admit it, but the lack of joy in Bofur's eyes was a bit unsettling to behold. He also looked older –much older than what he really was. Anger was not a good thing for such a normally joyful dwarrow.

"It probably won't be pretty," he told him at last.

"Probably cleaner 'n the skulls I'm goin' t' eventually bash in."

A slight grin came to Nori's lips and he nodded in understanding. "Come on, then –it's this way." Turning, he started to lead Bofur off. After news of the attack, the streets seemed to be left quite empty; many of the city's inhabitants were crammed into the Full Tankard to hear the details and find out just who had been taken prisoner.

'I should tell Dori,' thought Nori, 'We could use his strength…but going to Erebor will only delay us even more. Bard's right. They could be leagues away by now…'

"We'll get them back."

He glanced over at Bofur, finding his gaze fixed on the ground. "What?"

"We'll get them back," he said again. "And when we do, we'll show those raiders –women or not- that they can't go around kidnappin' people."

"We'll see about that," he told him. "When we actually get out on the road, you may calm down a bit." He knew, of course, that Bofur was angrier than normal because he was in love. Dwarves were intensely protective and jealous folk when it came to their lovers. He knew that Dwalin, too, was feeling this same rage, but it seemed he had a better control of it.

Bofur shook his head. "Hard tellin'," he mumbled. "I don't think I've ever felt this angry before."

"It's because you're in love," Nori told him, brow rising. He rounded a corner and stopped Bofur when he saw the pub. "Let me do the talking," he told him. "Shady folk like the ones in these pubs take a certain finesse to talk to."

His brow rose. "Right…so you're not goin' to just threaten t' cut off his family jewels if he doesn't give you information?"

"That may come up. Just keep quiet and keep your eye out for anyone who tries t' attack us, alright?" When Bofur nodded, he continued on into the pub. Giving the place a cursory look around, Nori found that the room was mostly empty; only the bartender and two men inhabited the place. Keeping the men in his peripheral, he casually approached the bar and climbed onto a stool. Bofur did the same.

"What'll it be?" the barman asked, not bothering to look up.

"Information."

His eyes flicked up to glance at Nori before he looked back at the mug he was cleaning. He did a double-take, cursing when he recognized him from the bar fight. "Oi! You've got a lot of nerve, showin' your ugly mug-" A choking sound left his throat as Nori suddenly gripped the neck of his tunic and yanked him down.

"I want information," Nori growled, "and you're going to give it to me if you know what's good for you." He smirked almost evilly as he pressed the point of a hidden dagger against his jugular. "Do you understand?"

The barman nodded slowly, a quiet whimper leaving his throat.

"Last week, there were two women here. They were robed in red and black and had gems on their left cheeks," Nori continued. "Where did they come from? Why were they here?"

"I only know th-that they came from the D-Dorwinion plains –near the Iron Hills!"

His eyes narrowed; every indication on the man's face said that he knew more than what he was willing to say. "That's not all you know." He pressed the dagger further into his flesh. "Tell me everything."

The barman looked between Nori and Bofur. "Are ya really goin' t' let him treat me like this, Master Dwarf?"

"He's going easy on you," Bofur replied, his tone dry. He glanced over his shoulder, watching as the two men started to stalk towards him and Nori. Climbing down from the stool, he moved to stand between them and the bar. One of them aimed a punch towards his head, but he easily ducked and slammed his fist into his gut. The man doubled over in pain. The second man lunged at Bofur, but he twisted to the side and jabbed his elbow forward into the man's chest.

Swallowing hard, the bartender watched Bofur for a moment before looking at Nori again. "A-alright! They wanted information on the next caravan that would be comin' t' the city, so me 'n a few others told 'em!"

"Anything else you care to divulge? Like who they work for?"

"I-I honestly don't know tha'!" he cried. "I just know tha' they wanted t' know about the caravans!"

Raising his brow, Nori looked him over one last time, his eyes catching a slight hint of gold just under the man's tunic. Moving the knife, he used its tip to tug the necklace up, finding that its pendant was one of the gems from the women's cheeks. He grabbed it and, with a flick of his wrist, snapped it from the man's neck and dropped him to the floor.

"H-hey! I got that fair and square!" the man argued. "You've got no-"

"I don't care whether or not I have a right to take it. Because o' you, my little brother and his best friend were kidnapped; I think this trinket is more than enough payment for the pain you've put us and them through." Turning around, he found Bofur wiping his hands on his coat, the two men lying unconscious at his feet. One of them had a broken nose. "We're done here," he told him, nodding towards the door.

As they left, Bofur glanced at him. "Have you ever heard o' a group of female raiders in Dorwinion?"

Nori shook his head. "No, but if they're like any other group of thieves, they have their own code o' honor. It'll be hard to get information out o' the one who was taken captive, but I'm sure we'll manage. Do you know where the jail is?"

Bofur raised his brow. "I tend t' stay away from those sorts of places, so no."

"Hm. Well, I would imagine it'd be towards the castle. Humans like to keep their prisoners close to their royalty so an eye can always be kept on them…" Tucking the gem into one of his many hidden pockets, he glanced up at the sky; it was starting to grow dark. "She's going to be reluctant to give us any information –especially if we're rough with her."

"Why don't we just ask someone where the jail is?" Bofur inquired, brow rising.

"Two dwarrows asking where the jail is seems a little suspicious, don't you think?"

"True…" He rubbed the back of his neck and sighed; his whole body was starting to ache from how tense he had been all day.

They wandered around the city for nearly half an hour, searching almost every street for any sign of the jail. It was a hard task, especially with the sky growing darker by the minute. At last, when the anger driving them was dying out and they were ready to give up, some hope came to them in a rather unexpected manner.

"I had a feeling that I would find you out here." They halted in their steps and slowly turned, finding Bard standing behind them. He had his arms crossed over his chest as he stared down at the two dwarves. "I suppose you came here to get information from our prisoner?" Even though he was only in his early thirties, he was daunting to look at.

"We already have information," Nori told him, "we just need a little more."

Bard's brow rose as he found himself intrigued. "And what sort of information did you get, Master Nori?" The slightest hint of a grin came to his face when he saw the matching looks of surprise on their faces. "Yes, I know both your names; I remember the two of you quite well from Thorin Oakenshield's company. Now, please, tell me what you have learned. The sooner I know about these women, the sooner I can send help."

For a moment, Nori was silent. He crossed his own arms as he gazed up at the human king; Bard was an honorable man and had treated them fairly when they had been a part of Thorin's Company. Despite this, he was reluctant to tell him the information they had gathered purely out of caution. Shifting his position, he glanced at Bofur, who hadn't taken his gaze off the king either.

"Two members o' the group were at a pub last week. That's where they got the details about the caravan. Their group comes from the Dorwinion plains," he finally explained. "That's all we were able to get out of the barkeeper. We were hoping that the prisoner would give us more details."

The king nodded. "I don't think it wise to let you two be the ones to do the questioning, though. I have people that are trained for that task."

"Do they know how to handle a woman?"

"If she rides wargs and raids caravans, then what difference does it make if she's man or woman?"

Nori raised his brow. "Good answer," he replied, "but will your people feel that same?"

"If they don't, I will see to it that they learn to." He glanced at the sky. "You two should return t' the Full Tankard. I will be there again before the night is out; hopefully with more knowledge about these raiders."

Bofur hooked his thumbs in his belt once more. "I hope y'know, milord, that we fully intend on goin' after Baylee 'n Ori whether you allow it or not," he told the king. "Sittin' on the wayside an' watchin' others do the work isn't our style."

At his words, Bard did smile. "Oh, I fully intend to use the wrath those women have stirred up in you and the others to our advantage," he told him. "I will see the two of you later." Without another word, he turned down an alleyway and disappeared into the shadows.

Narrowing his eyes, Nori tried his best to follow the king's movements, but they were hard to detect. "For a king," he started, "he certainly knows the way o' thinking of common folk."

"He wasn't always a king," Bofur told him, starting to head back towards the Full Tankard. "When we first saw him, he was just an ordinary bloke who most thought odd." He sighed, looking at the ground. "I hope he gets good information. I wanted t' leave as soon as we got the news..."

Nori set his hand on his shoulder. "You're not the only one."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

A dull ache filled Baylee's skull and her shoulders. With a pained groan, she tried to move her arms out from behind her, but they were held back by thick, scratchy ropes. Opening her eyes in confusion, she was met by the dying, reddish light of sunset. Across from her was Ori, a gag in his mouth as he squirmed against his own set of ropes. The shoulder of his shirt and coat had been ripped open, allowing her to see bloodstained bandages wrapped around his skin. Next to him lay one of the soldiers, his body stripped of any armor and weapons, leaving him in just his padded under clothing. He was unconscious and dark, dried blood was smeared across his forehead.

"Wha…?" she mumbled. She was utterly confused, having not remembered what transpired earlier in the day. Opening and closing her eyes a few times, she found that this not some bizarre dream like she had hoped, but a cruel reality.

Lifting her head, she glanced over her shoulder only to let out a cry –a warg was lying no more than four feet from her. Whether it was because she was so close to it or her fear working against her, she thought that it looked far larger than any warg she had seen before.

Startled by her sudden noise, the warg lifted its head and snorted at her, its black eyes narrowed in discontent. It lurched to its feet and Baylee clenched her eyes shut, attempting to prepare for the worst -but nothing happened. Upon opening her eyes again, she found that the warg had wandered off towards a group of people sitting some yards away.

Biting her tongue, she started to wriggle her way towards Ori, who had ceased his struggles when he had heard her cry. She winced; the ground was hard and uneven, with rocks poking out of the ground. More than once, she was sure that she had managed to cut herself before she had reached the dwarf.

He asked her something, though his words were muffled by the gag in his mouth.

She quietly cursed. "I can't understand you," she whispered. For a moment, she was quiet before a thought occurred to her. "Grunt once for yes," she told him, "an' twice for no. Are ya alright?"

One grunt.

"Has Tyko woken up yet?"

Two grunts and Baylee cursed again before roughly getting pulled off of the ground. She looked up to see one of the veiled raiders holding her under the arm.

"Ah, glad are awake," said a female voice. "Hoped didn't kill when hit on head. Would be bad luck, yeah?"

"Bad luck for you, maybe," Baylee groaned. The woman's voice was loud, making her brain throb in pain.

The woman laughed –it was deep and throaty, a sound Baylee would have expected to come from a male. "Of course bad luck for me!" she replied. "Is bad luck to kill woman on battlefield, even if they fighting. Better capture them and make them slaves or have them join own side." She tilted her head, allowing the last bit of sunlight to fall on her eyes. Baylee could see that they were deep green in color with flecks of gold around her pupil; they were lined with a blood-red makeup that flicked out in a point that connected her upper eyelid to the end of her eyebrow.

The woman looked Baylee over, her brow rising under her veil. Seeing her ear cuff, she made quick work of removing it, earning a curse of protest from the prisoner. "Ugh. Ugly thing, yeah? Not suit such cute face."

"Put tha' back!" Baylee cried wriggling against her bonds.

"Were snack for something, yeah?" she mused, seeing the torn cartilage that the cuff had kept hidden. Tossing the jewelry over her shoulder, she shrugged. "Oh well. Mostly whole prisoners are good as whole prisoners, yeah?"

"What are ya goin' t' do with us?" Baylee demanded, though she sounded less than threatening –her voice wobbled, betraying her fear.

She cocked her head to the side as she set Baylee square on her feet. Circling around the young woman, she looked her over closely. "Not know yet. Man is handsome; may become concubine or may work in fields. Dwarf…sort of cute, but not become concubine. More likely work in fields or as slave. You though…" By the tone of her voice, Baylee knew she was wearing a grin under her veil. "Most definitely concubine."

Baylee swallowed hard. "I think I'd rather work in the fields," she murmured.

The woman laughed again. "No –are woman, yeah? Not getting men's work! Only men work in fields and mines while women fight, hunt, rule, and have babies. Sometimes, women work as servants –mostly concubines. Men do easy work, yeah?" She walked behind Baylee and untied her wrists, chuckling as the smaller woman grunted and stretched her arms. "Hm. Must be hungry, yeah? Will get food. Don't try to escape, yeah? Not want you to become snack for puppies." She motioned at the wargs lying around before walking off.

Almost instantly, Baylee knelt beside Ori and untied the gag from his mouth. As he sat up, making noises of disgust and trying to get the taste of cloth from his mouth, she also unbound his wrists before clutching him against her chest. He wrapped his arms around her as well, able to feel her shaking against him.

"I'm not leavin' your side," she murmured, face buried in his hair. "I'm goin' t' do all within my power t' keep you in my sight at all times."

He nodded slowly and closed his eyes. "We'll be fine," he quietly assured her. "We'll get out o' this somehow." His hand cupped the back of her head as she shifted and started to gently rock him.

"I know we will," she murmured. "I just hope we stay safe until then." Glancing over his shoulder, she looked at Tyko, who remained unconscious. "An' that Tyko wakes up soon…Gods, I hope he's alright…"

"He's a strong lad. He'll be alright."

It was then the woman returned, though she was followed by another masked person; from her words earlier, Baylee knew that this newcomer had to have been female as well. Pulling back from Ori, she pulled her knees to her chest as watched as the two raiders set down bowls of soup in front of them as well as two large, flat pieces of what Baylee and Ori assumed to be some sort of bread. It was smeared with some sort of soft cheese.

"Eat," ordered the first woman. She sat down, having her own bowl of soup and piece of bread. "And tell names, yeah? Too lazy to come up with names for you."

Ori watched her as she removed the veil from her face; he had been expecting a horribly deformed face hiding beneath it. Instead, the woman was quite normal looking with olive skin and plump, red lips. Her cheeks and jaw bore a few scars from battles past and there was a ruby pinned to her left nostril. On her left check, just below the eye, was a small emerald.

"Think me pretty, dwarf?" she smirked. When his cheeks turned dark red and he looked down into his soup, she laughed. "Not for you. Have nice harem waiting back home."

"I already have a lover," Ori muttered, "and he's going to make sure you pay for kidnappin' us."

Her brow rose. "Not think it wise to threaten those who are keeping you alive, yeah? Forget about lover. He won't find you. Only nomadi iz kámpou can find other nomadi iz kámpou." She grinned broadly before taking a sip of her soup. Her eyes glanced away from the two conscious prisoners, watching as the other woman tended to Tyko. Calling out to her, she spoke in their native tongue before laughing and drinking more soup.

The other woman did not seem to find her humor as she gently lifted Tyko up so that he rested against her chest. Pulling a metal flask from her side, she uncorked it and, forcing his mouth open, poured a bit into his mouth. To ensure that he swallowed the medicine, she plugged his nose. After a few seconds, he swallowed the liquid and coughed, his eyes finally opening.

Baylee let out a sigh of relief, having been paying more attention to them than to her food. She flinched when the first woman leaned forward and smacked her leg.

"Eat," she ordered again, leaning back. "Friend will be fine. Now tell names, yeah?" She stared at them as she ate more of her bread. "If don't, will have puppies chase you. Not want that, am sure."

Lifting her bowl, Baylee sniffed the soup only to let out a small cough; it had the powerfully strong smellof mint. "My name is Baylee," she told the woman before daring to take a sip of the soup. Just as she thought, it was overwhelmingly minty, though she was able to detect other flavors like ginger and some sort of meat. Was it beef? No; the flavor was a bit gamier than that. It could have been mutton…

"You?" the woman demanded, looking at Ori.

He glanced up at her. "Ori," he replied, his voice a bit gruff. "And he's-" he pointed at Tyko, "-Tyko."

Nodding in understanding, she patted her chest. "Am Malasintha and she Gelvira," she told them, nodding at the healer. "Are seven others that will meet soon." She grinned again. "Some not as nice as us, yeah? Don't be rude; some won't…eh…pause to cut out tongue if speak out. Be good prisoners, yeah?" One of the wargs trotted over, causing the two prisoners to recoil in fear, though Malasintha merely smiled and scratched the beast behind the ears as it lay down next to her. She started to coo to it in her native tongue.

"If these are puppies," Ori mumbled to Baylee, "then I'm terrified t' think of how big the adults are."

"Hopefully 'puppy' is just an affectionate name she used," she replied quietly. Taking a bite of the bread, she found it to be much more to her liking. The bread itself was rather plain tasting, but the cheese covering it had a mild tang and the flavor of garlic. She ripped a piece of it off and dipped it into the soup, seeing if that would help combat some of the mint flavor. To her luck, it did.

He nodded in agreement, also eating some of his bread. "I'm hopin'…"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Lovisa quietly sighed, her face buried in her hands. She, like many others who still crowed the Full Tankard's common room, was waiting for the return of Bard. Unlike most, though, she was twitchy. She did not want to be patient and see what the king's decision was –no. She wanted to take the fastest horse and ride back to the scene of the attack and chase after those damned raiders. They already had almost a full day's ride ahead of any help that could be sent –why waste more time?

She finally looked up when someone set a mug before her. Her brows furrowed in confusion before she watched a black-and-white haired dwarf climb onto a stool across from her. She recognized him from earlier; he had been one of the fellows who had raced to Bard with the news. Now he was scooting a steaming mug of tea towards her, a concerned look on his features.

"Drink," he told her, though she noticed it took him some effort. She wondered if it had to do with the axe sticking out of his skull.

Sitting up and sighing, she touched her fingertips to her chin, the Iglishmêk equivalent of 'thank-you', before taking the mug. She deeply inhaled its steam, both smelling and tasting ginger and lemon. Her brow rose slightly; this was her favorite tea. It was an odd coincidence.

Bifur quietly sighed. He had tried to get Bofur, Dwalin, and Nori to drink some tea –alcohol would not be a good thing to have angry dwarrows drinking- but they refused the warm drinks and were, instead, huddled in the corner. He did manage, however, to get Will to drink some tea, though it took some persuasion from both him and Adela. He didn't dare try to give tea to Warren, though; he was outside, beating some metal to relieve his anger.

Through all his attempts to keep everyone calm and levelheaded, though, he had noticed that this one woman had seemed to be left out of almost everything. Warren and Will had spoken with her briefly, though he wasn't sure if they listened to anything she had told them, because they had hurried off with Richard. When Bard had come to the inn and throughout the meeting, she sat at the corner of the long table, saying nothing, but watching everything. It did not surprise him –she had the looks and garb of a ranger. He knew she had fought against the raiders because her quiver, still strapped to her back, was nearly empty and there was a bandage wrapped around her upper arm. She would have been the perfect picture of calm if she didn't jump every time someone walked by her or if her eyes had not been full of such anger.

He had never seen a woman so angry as her.

"Zûr túb Baylee?" he quietly asked.

Lovisa glanced up at him, almost startled by his words. Her hands left the sides of the warm mug before she paused. Biting her lower lip, she hesitantly signed 'Know Baylee?' to him.

He nodded, a bit of a smile coming to his lips as he also started to sign. 'She good friend. Helped cousin, me many times last few months.'

'Are Bifur then? Or Bofur?'

'Bifur.'

She nodded her understanding, smiling slightly, though it didn't reach her eyes. 'Baylee speak of you. Ori, too. Wish could have met with better tidings.' Lifting her mug, she took a small sip from the hot liquid. Extra lemon…He must have told Galiene who the tea was for, otherwise this would have been too strange a coincidence.

'Same. Name is Lovisa, right?'

'Yes.'

'Surprised know Iglishmêk.'

'Father teach Iglishmêk when child. Got sick; lost voice.'

Taking a drink from his tea, he nodded, finding himself a bit surprised. Dwarves were hardy folk and didn't get sick often –even half dwarves rarely got sick- so to know she lost her voice to an illness…Well, it was odd to him. 'Must be one who taught Will, Baylee. They quite good.'

Again, she smiled. 'Was their nurse.' Sighing, she glanced across the room, trying to find Will, but seeing no sight of him. Rubbing her face, she mentally cursed the raiders who took Baylee and Ori.

"Ashurak zân nât ghelekhur," Bifur quietly assured her.

Lovisa was about to sign a reply to him when the door to the inn opened up again. Looking over her shoulder, she watched as Bard hurried in. Almost instantly, people flocked towards him, bombarding him with questions. Despite his pleading for silence, it did not come. Growing frustrated, he called out:

"SILENCE!"

The people fell quiet, though there was still some murmuring going on.

"The raiders who have taken Tyko, Ori, and Baylee are a group of women who call themselves the Nomads of the Plains," he explained. "They travel across the Rhûnic plains, acting as pirates do in the sea." He rubbed his temple. "They were, indeed, riding wargs and…yes, it was an all-female group. The prisoner mentioned that they do have a base of sorts, but no one will be able to find it."

"Then torture her until she agrees t' lead us here!" one of Tyko's brothers shouted.

Bard gave him a sharp look, his eyes narrowed. "Torture will only gain false truths," he scolded. "We have gotten all that we can out of her; you have no need to get worked up."

"But if no one can find this base, then how are we goin' t' get them back?" a woman demanded. "Sendin' an army after 'em is goin' t' prove folly-"

"I am not sending an army," Bard snapped. His patience had long been worn away, but he did his best to remain calm. "I know exactly who I am sendin' for this mission. Now if you'll excuse me!" He started to wade through the crowd, heading towards Lovisa. When he approached her, she looked up in confusion; he didn't understand Iglishmêk and knew full well that she couldn't speak. Despite this, he pulled out a chair and sat down beside her.

Respectfully, she bowed her head and set her hand over her heart.

Bard shook his head, holding up his hand. "No formalities right now, Lovisa," he told her. "Your skills as a huntress are well known to those who live in Esgaroth and Dale, so I am asking you to put those skills to use to find those three who were taken."

She nodded solemnly.

"I don't, of course, expect you to do this by yourself." His eyes glanced over at Bifur. "Ori's brother and Bifur's cousin are feeling particularly vengeful. Will, too, would be a good idea."

"Ya'Dwalin ûn!" Bifur added, patting himself on the chest. "Ori ûn Baylee ubahum!"

Though he didn't understand most of Bifur's words, Bard did understand what he had meant. "Yes, Bifur, you two would surely go with," he told him. "No doubt Dwalin's fighting skills will prove to be of use, as will your own set of hunting skills."

Lovisa glanced at Bifur; he didn't look like much of a hunter…Then again, the axe in his head proved that he had some skill in combat, so perhaps he was a hunter of orcs? Looking back at Bard, she gave him a polite nod before taking a long drink from her tea and rising to her feet. She pointed to Bifur and motioned for him to follow her. Making her way through the crowd, she went over to the table where Dwalin, Nori, and Bofur were sitting. The three males looked up at her curiously as they saw her approach –even more so when they saw Bifur behind her.

'Going after Ori, Baylee,' she signed to them. 'Need help. Know are good friends to both. Find Will, weapons. Meet in stables. Leave in half-hour.' Without another sign, she left the table.

"Did anyone else see wha' I just saw?" Dwalin demanded, his brows furrowed.

"A female half-dwarf givin' us orders to meet her in the stables in half an hour with weapons so we can go after Ori and Baylee?" Bofur asked. Dwalin nodded. "Aye, I did."

Nori cocked his brow. "Then what are we waiting for?" He shoved his chair back with a loud scraping noise and, with Dwalin hurrying after him, started up the stairs to his room.

Bifur pulled Bofur to his feet, signing for him to get his boar spear from the toyshop while he went in search of Will. He went down the hallway that led into the private quarters and knocked on the door only for it to be answered by Adela. Her eyes were red and puffy; she had been crying. Regardless, she smiled slightly when she saw the dwarf and stepped aside to let him in.

"He's in Baylee's room," she told him, leading him down another, shorter hallway. She lightly knocked on the door before pushing it open and poking her head inside. "Will? Bifur's here."

"Let him in." He could just barely hear Will's voice.

Once more, Adela stepped aside, letting Bifur pass by her. The room, to his surprise, was brightly lit by a fire in the hearth and candles sitting on the various tables. Will, he found, was sitting on Baylee's bed, his legs crossed as he looked down at something in his hands. Drawing closer to the young man, he could see that Will was holding what looked like a burnt piece of tapestry.

"Did Bard come back?" he quietly asked, his eyes glancing up at the dwarf, who nodded. "What did he say?"

'Sending Lovisa, us after Baylee, Ori, Tyko,' he signed. 'Meet Lovisa in half hour in stables.'

His brows furrowed. "Wait, Lovisa is in charge?" he asked. Bifur nodded once more, bringing a bit of a grin to the lad's face. "This should be interesting…"

'Why?'

He shook his head. "It just is." Sliding off of the bed, he tucked the piece of fabric into his pocket and moved to leave the room. "Stables in half an hour?" he asked.

"A-Aye."

"See you there."

~*~

Lovisa sighed as she tightened the saddle on a black stallion. In the stalls on either side of her, Warren and Peter were readying horses for Will and the dwarves, though they weren't sure where to put the stirrups just yet. Normally, she would have preferred to use ponies, but speed was the key if they were going to catch up to the raiding party. The two men –with some help from Bard- had made sure to find horses that had seen battle so that they wouldn't be too startled in case they ended up in a fighting situation, though one of the dwarves would have to end up riding Baylee's mare.

Bard came into the stables once more; he looked exhausted. Under one of his arms, he held a small barrel while the other carried seven water skins, each one full. Setting the barrel on one of the railings, he let out a small sigh. "This was all the way bread I could find," he told them. "One of my men is bringing in a barrel of hardtack and some meats."

"I'm glad ya thought t' hoard some away for times o' need," Warren replied as he put the saddle on Baylee's mare. "The old Master wouldn't have thought o' that."

"Now's not the time t' think of times past. Where is your son? And the dwarves, for that matter?"

"They'll be here," Peter told him. He was carrying a saddle over to a painted gelding. "They're not going t' shirk away from this sort o' mission."

Bard nodded, grabbing a nearby hoof-cleaning tool and using it to pry open the barrel. Once opened, he took it over to where the heap of saddlebags lay and started to distribute the bread as evenly as possible into each bag. As he did so, Lovisa watched him; she had known Bard in his youth, but not as well as she knew the Braddock family. It was almost odd to her, to see him here as a king. But she had heard only good things of his rule so far.

Another man entered the tables; he carried two small barrels and a bundle of arrows as well. He set the barrels down beside the king before handing the arrows to Lovisa, who nodded her thanks and undid the buckles to her quiver's harness.

"Sawyer, run to the eastern gate and tell them to open," Bard instructed the young man. "And then go to my cook; if she's asleep, wake her and tell her to give you a good meal and have some bread and cheese ready for when I return."

The lad nodded before hurrying out of the stables. His leaving brought the arrivals of Will and the dwarves. All of the males had shed their comfortable town clothes in favor for sturdier traveling garb. Their weapons they had strapped to their backs or ready in their hands. They were an odd bunch to look at: Will had his chain flail as well as his helmet and cloak; Dwalin his axes strapped to his back, war hammer resting in his hands, and knuckledusters; Bifur his boar spear and Bofur his mattock; and Nori seemed to have only two knives, though everyone knew he had at least five more hidden somewhere on his person.

"Where at the ponies?" Dwalin demanded, his hands resting on the handle of his hammer.

"You won't be riding ponies," Warren told him. "An' even if there were enough ponies in Dale for all o' you, you'd still be ridin' horses. Ponies would be too slow."

Bofur frowned. "We're too short for horses, though."

"You'll get help up," Bard told him as he stood. With the contents of all three barrels evenly distributed between the saddlebags, he started to carry them over to the various horses. Warren and Peter copied his actions while Lovisa went over to the group.

'Leave through east gate,' she signed to them. 'Cross bridge. Ride south to spot of attack. Follow warg tracks east. Stop only to let horses rest. Understand?'

The males nodded. "How many miles do you think they've got on us?" Nori asked her.

She gave him a grave look. 'Leagues. Wargs fast. Don't need to stop as often as horses –but stop at night. Gives advantage. Will be sleeping by now. Have chance to gain on them. Saddle up.'

Will nodded, moving towards his horse. Warren was there, reins in hand, waiting for him. Like Bard, he looked exhausted and worried, but he smiled when Will took the reins from him.

Giving his father a tight hug, Will managed a reassuring smile. "I swear I'll bring her home –even if I have t' carry her all the way back, I'll bring her home."

"I know ya will, son," he murmured, giving Will an extra squeeze. "I know ya will."

~*~*~*~*~*~

Baylee let out a quiet whimper as her hair was roughly tugged, but she resisted the urge to pull away. Instead, she clenched her eyes shut and gripped her arms tighter, enduring the pain. Like most of the other women, she was currently naked and standing in ankle-deep water so that they could bathe. Behind her stood a woman named Ankita, who was using her hands to comb through the unruly locks, a frown on her face.

After many minutes of trying to untangle the knots, she called out to her companions who were bathing some yards away. A different woman, who was called Prema, waded over, her brow raised. The two quietly discussed what to do about Baylee's hair when a third woman –Divya- came over. This woman seemed to be the second in command of the raiders, for almost everyone listened to her when she gave orders. The only one who didn't listen to her was Vlasta.

She spoke with the other women for a moment before ushering them away. Taking Baylee's hair into her hands, Divya started the process of combing through it only to find that it was, indeed, a horrible mess. Ankita had managed to make some leeway, but it wasn't much. She looked over her shoulder and, with a voice that made Baylee flinch, gave an order to Prema.

"What're ya goin' t' do?" Baylee hesitantly asked.

"Need trim."

Her eyes widened in horror and she gripped her hair. "N-no! Ya can't cut it; I've been growin' it for eight years!"

Divya's brow rose and an amused grin came to her lips. "Don't worry," she told her, "will look better with short hair, yeah? Look more desirable." She lifted her hand, easily catching a sheathed knife as it was tossed to her. "Now let go. Don't want to cut your hands, yeah?"

Biting her lower lip, Baylee softly whimpered as Divya gently pried her fingers away from her hair. "P-please, no…"

Gathering her hair up, Divya ignored her words. She brought the knife through the locks, leaving Baylee's hair just above shoulder length. Tossing the bundle of hair downstream, she sheathed the knife and threw it back onto shore. Then she easily plucked Baylee up and set her over her shoulder, carrying her towards the other women in the deeper water.

"I-I can walk, you know!" Baylee yelped, squirming. Even though they were all women, she was not comfortable at all with being hauled around while naked. She could only hope that Zuza and Heneh, the two women left in charge of Tyko and Ori, were treating them with more dignity. "My legs are unhurt!"

"Faster to carry, yeah?" Divya told. With a shrug, she dropped her into the deeper water before moving to start washing herself.

Pushing herself upright, Baylee coughed up the water she had accidentally inhaled. Malasintha came over, helping to pull her to her feet. With her newly shortened hair hanging in her face and her body shaking from the cold water, Baylee looked very much like a drowned rat. Shaking her head, Malasintha made a 'tut-tut' noise and proceeded to help scrub her arms and legs to get her out of the water sooner. Baylee tried to shove her away, understandably not wanting someone else touching her at the moment.

"I can wash myself," she muttered, pulling her arm away.

"Am trying to help, yeah?" Malasintha told her. "Are shivering from cold. Let me help and can go sit by fire sooner, yeah?"

Knowing she had no other choice, Baylee reluctantly held out her arm while she tried to scrub the smell of warg off of her skin with her other hand. Malasintha, however, soon took over the entire job of cleaning her, her hands making quick work of scrubbing a bar of strange-scented soap over her shoulders. Baylee tried her best to wash on her own, but Malasintha kept pushing her hands away.

"How get scars?" the raider inquired as she spun Baylee around. "Not normal scars for gentle woman to have." She coated her back with the soap and started to use her knuckles to massage whatever dirt and grime there was away.

"G-goblin attack," she answered. "B-Battle of F-five Armies."

"Fought in that?" She stared at Baylee, a bit shocked. "Am surprised. Heard of it; many, many dwarves from Iron Hills went to fight there, yeah? Not many return."

She nodded slowly. "Most stayed to help reestablish Erebor…" She didn't want to admit it, but Malasintha's hands felt nice on her shoulders. The muscles there were knotted and tense after her arms had spent so long tied up behind her back.

"Ah. Dragon dead, then?"

"He was slain before the war."

Malasintha nodded in understanding as she let her hands slide down Baylee's back, her fingers still working to scrub away whatever filth was on her skin. "Were only woman fighting, yeah?"

"No. My mother and aunt-" She suddenly let out a surprised yelp when she felt Malasintha's hand cup her bottom and give it a squeeze. She jumped forward, any shyness she had felt turning to anger. "Don't touch me like tha'!" she snapped, her arms crossing over her chest.

There was an innocent smile on Malasintha's lips as she held up her hands in defense. "Could not help. Have nice arse, yeah? Hips, too! Would be good for bearing children."

Keeping her chest covered, Baylee pointed a scolding finger at the taller woman. "Ya can, too, help it! If you touch me like tha' again, I will hit you!" she threatened.

A cry of pain left her mouth as someone suddenly grabbed her hair and yanked her backwards. As she stumbled back, the same person roughly shoved her into the water, keeping her pinned there for many seconds. Cursing, Malasintha dashed forward, shoving the woman away from Baylee and helping drag her out of the water.

As she was pulled, gasping, out of the water, Baylee saw the woman named Brina glaring down at her. "You are prisoner!" she snarled, eyes narrowed. "You listen to us and do as told. Can be killed for threatening us! Should be killed for threatening us, ungrateful rat!"

Malasintha growled at her, spitting words in their tongue as she lifted the dazed Baylee up. Brina was about to swing her fist at Malasintha, but her hand never reached its target. Instead, there was a blur of pale white and blood- red as Vlasta lunged forward, grabbing Brina's wrist and twisting her arm behind her back, earning a howl of pain from the smaller woman.

Half in the water, half out, and her vision spinning, Baylee watched as the redhead –who hadn't even shown even the slightest interest in the prisoners until now- quietly snarled into Brina's ear. Of course, Brina argued against her and Vlasta grabbed a handful of her hair, her grip tight enough to earn curses of pain from the brunette. What threats were given, she would never know, but Brina's tense form went limp and Vlasta shoved her forward into the water.

Baylee tried to get to her feet as Vlasta walked towards her, the look on her face enough to scare paint from a wall. Instead, she stumbled and Malasintha had to catch her once more. Vlasta moved behind the two and, with a surprising amount of gentleness, tilted Baylee's head forward, her fingers brushing the hair aside.

"Hit your head," she told Baylee. "And you're bleeding." Leaning down –way down, for she was almost as tall as Warren or Richard- she scooped Baylee up in her arms and started to carry her off.

"I-I can walk…" she mumbled, her eyes clenched shut. She hadn't even realized she had hit her head until Vlasta had told her; the shock of being nearly drowned was wearing off and the pain starting to ebb its way into her consciousness.

"Probably can, but I'm not going to let you, eh? May fall again." Baylee was surprised that she spoke better Westron than the other women; then again, she was their leader. It was to be expected.

Vlasta carried Baylee towards the ring of tents that encircled the fire. Because of the fire's light, the two women could see the forms of Tyko, Ori, Zuza, and Heneh in one of the tents; it almost looked like one of the men was being restrained by a woman while the other washed his face.

Passing by the tent, Baylee frowned. "Where are you takin' me?" she dared to ask. All of her clothing was in the tent with Tyko and Ori; it was the prisoner's tent. "All my clothes are-"

"Clothes aren't as important as your wound, eh? Treat that first, then we'll find clothes for you."

Swallowing hard, Baylee shut her mouth. She knew full well that Vlasta was not a woman to talk back to; she may get away with it around Malasintha and Gelvira, but Vlasta was an imposing figure and, when she wasn't smiling, was rather fearsome to look upon. It didn't help that her body bore more scars than Baylee could count, including what looked to be bite marks over the right side of her face.

And yet…there was a strange sense of majesty about this woman. She carried herself as any leader should –with pride and confidence. Baylee had noticed that with a single look, she could stop the other women from fighting or keep them at bay when their teasing of one another was going to turn semi-violent. Even the wargs listened to her: One had tried to steal a bowl of stew from Ankita two hours ago and, with a single snarl, Vlasta sent the warg scampering off, its tail between its legs.

Vlasta carried her into the largest tent –her own tent- and Baylee instantly recoiled against her chest as Vlasta's warg lifted its great head, looking at them tiredly. It yawned, its mouth opening wide enough to easily fit the heads of two men in it with room to spare, before laying its head back down and sighing. Vlasta set Baylee down –much to her horror- against the creature before moving to rummage around in her bag.

The warg grunted and rolled onto its side, earning a small squeak from the human as she tumbled backwards against its chest. It snorted, but ignored her for the most part. Vlasta glanced over at her as she pulled out a small flask that she carried over to Baylee. Kneeling before her, she tilted Baylee's head forward again, exposing the back of her neck. She quietly hissed in pain as Vlasta moved her wet hair aside and opened the flask, pouring a bit of liquid on the wound. It foamed up as soon as it touched the open flesh, earning a curse of pain from Baylee; it stung something awful.

"There," Vlasta murmured, dabbing the wound with a clean cloth. Closing the flask, she tossed it over to her bag before leaning over and grabbing a fur cape. This she wrapped snugly around Baylee's small form before getting to her feet and starting to dress herself. "It'll still hurt for day or two, but at least it'll be clean, eh?"

"I-if you say so," Baylee murmured, clutching the cape to her chest. She was doing her best to keep her teeth from chattering as she shivered.

Vlasta glanced over at her, her brow raised. Tugging some trousers on, she sighed and ran a hand through her blood-red hair. "Brina shouldn't bother again. If she does, hit her back, eh?" she told Baylee before grabbing a shirt and pulling it over her head.

"A-alright," she murmured. 'I have the feeling she'll just hit me back, twice as hard,' she thought. She flinched as a wad of cloth hit her in the face; she hadn't heard Vlasta's order to catch it thanks to her thoughts.

"Told you to catch, eh?" Vlasta said, her brow rising. "Should learn to listen. It's a useful skill, eh? Now put tunic on."

The cloak falling off of her shoulders, Baylee held up the garment. It was far too big for her –but it was clean and smelled of lavender. Not having the strength to argue, she pulled it on while doing her best to not disturb the sleeping warg.

'At least these wargs seem more tame than the Gundabad wargs…' she thought, trying to find her hands through the sleeves. As she got dressed, she noticed that Vlasta was watching her, her eyes narrowed curiously. Cheeks growing hot, Baylee found herself snapping, "Could ya not stare? I know; I'm tiny an' I need t' eat more."

Her tone earned a chuckle from the larger woman. "Wasn't thinking that," she mused. "More along lines of how…eh…how would I say it…" She was silent for a moment. "Ah. You don't look like you came from Esgaroth, eh?"

Frowning, Baylee glanced up at her while pushing the tunic down to her knees. "How do ya mean?"

Vlasta walked over, toying with Baylee's hair. "The people of Esgaroth have dark hair, eh? They have black or auburn or even umber hair." She started to absentmindedly braid a few of the locks. "Yours is light. Yours…yours is ashy, eh? Never seen this light of hair amongst Esgaroth people."

"How would you know?" she retorted, watching the woman cautiously.

"Have visited Esgaroth many times. You don't look like one of them."

"My mother is from Rohan."

"Hm. So that's where get eyes, eh? Not explain hair, though."

"My father has the same hair…" She turned her face away from the woman, unconsciously starting to fiddle with a lock of her hair. It was still long enough for her to get it into her mouth. 'Why is she so interested in my hair?' she thought. 'And why am I even answering her questions…?' There was a yelp from across the camp and she jumped, thinking it was Ori.

Vlasta set a hand on her shoulder. "Calm down," she told her, her voice oddly soothing. "Was just Ermtrud, eh? She's clumsy." She tugged the lock of hair out of Baylee's mouth. "Don't chew on your hair. So, father is one with ashy hair. Where is he from, eh?"

Baylee cocked her brow. "Lake Town…?" As far as she was aware, her father had been born and raised in the city; everyone certainly knew him well enough that it seemed that way. She had never met her grandparents on his side, however, so he could have been from one of the villages nearer to the mountains.

Shaking her head, Vlasta finished off a fourth braid. "Can't be from this side of Misty Mountains unless have come from Gondor," she told her, her voice firm.

"Why are ya so interested in my lineage?" Baylee suddenly demanded. "I'm from Lake Town an' I moved t' Dale after Smaug was killed. Isn't tha' enough? I'm goin' t' be a slave anyway, so it's not like any o' this information matters!"

Vlasta stepped back, amused by her outburst. "It is always good to know ones lineage –especially when one is prisoner. What if you were princess, eh?" She ruffled Baylee's hair. "Could demand pretty ransom for you then!"

"I'm an inn maiden, not a princess."

"Inn maidens wield spears now, eh?"

Baylee glared at her. "I was taught how to fight just in case I ended up in this sort o' situation." She yelped as Vlasta crouched down, her arms sliding under her legs and around her back before lifting her up.

"Fought well, but not well enough. Maybe we could make rider out of you, eh?" A smirk came to her lips as she carried Baylee off. "What inn were you maiden at?"

"Why does it matter?"

"May have stayed once at your inn."

Shaking her head, Baylee crossed her arms. "Not at our inn. I would have remembered ya if ya had."

Vlasta chuckled. "Inns serve many people, eh? Wouldn't remember one person out of hundreds."

"I have a good memory," she dryly retorted. She was carried into the prisoner's tent where Tyko and Ori were eating from bowls of stew. Well, Tyko was eating; Ori had his bowl sitting next to him while his face was buried in his knees. She frowned, crawling over to Ori once she had been set down. "Ori? Ori, what's wrong?" His shoulders were shaking as he quietly sobbed.

Tyko glanced between the two of them and Vlasta's retreating back. "Zuza and Heneh…they shaved his beard," he quietly told her. Baylee looked at him, her eyes wide in horror; she could see that the skin around one of his eyes was dark and bruised –one of the women had punched him. "Shaved mine off, too."

Biting her tongue, she set her hand on Ori's shoulder. "Ori, let me see," she quietly told him.

"No," he muttered, shaking his head. "It's hideous! Even a baby dwarrow has more o' a beard than me now! I'm not a dwarrow anymore, I'm just a…a hairless rat!"

She stroked his hair, lightly pulling him against her. "You're not a hairless rat, Ori. Beard or no beard, you're still a dwarf!"

Ori clung onto her, burying his face in the crook of her neck. "I'm no one without my beard. Zuza told us tha' when we start t' get stubble, it'll just be shaved off all over again!" he sobbed.

Glancing up at Tyko, Baylee watched as he nodded slowly with a sigh. "It'll grow back," she cooed to him. "We'll get out o' this mess an' it'll grow back. Just like how my hair will grow back. An' I bet it'll be-"

He pulled back slightly, looking up at her in confusion. His face was as smooth as the surface of an apple. "They cut your hair, too?" he frowned.

She nodded and held up a lock of it. "All because Divya didn't want t' comb through it all."

"But it was so long…" His jaw quivered as he reached up, his fingers combing through the hair. "Are they tryin' to remove our identities?"

Tyko sighed and patted him on the back. "We're prisoners –soon to be slaves. We don't have identities anymore."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was nearly dawn when Lovisa brought the group to a halt. They had ridden through the night, following the traces of warg tracks that she could find. It was a hard task even with a full moon to light the way; despite their large size, wargs did not leave much of a print. For the most part, her only clue as to which direction the raiders had gone in was the bent stalks of grass.

But now, in the light of the dawning sun, she had found solid evidence that they were headed in the right direction. A sigh of relief left her mouth as she knelt down beside the fire's ashes and glanced around. The grass in the area was beaten down in places –spots where people had slept, no doubt. Using her teeth, she pulled her glove off and ran her fingers through the ashes, finding them to be still just a touch warm.

'It's some hours old,' she thought, wiping her fingers on the end of her tunic. 'They left well before dawn, but they hadn't gone as far as I thought last night. No doubt, they wanted to patch up their injuries and make sure their 'steeds' were well…' Rising to her feet, she wandered through the area, finding tufts of fur here and there as well as some bloody splotches on the grass. There was not much blood, for which she was thankful. 'They'll be going farther today, but I doubt that they think that they're being pursued so soon after the attack…'

Will walked up alongside her, his eyes taking in almost the same sights as Lovisa's. "Well? What do you think?" he asked her.

'Left before dawn. Tended wounds, slept here. Am sure they not know are being tracked, but they still go very far today.'

He nodded and, narrowing his eyes against the morning light, looked towards the east. "Do you think we stand a chance of catching up before they reach their home?"

A heavy sigh left her mouth. 'Would take miracle,' she admitted.

Behind them, the dwarves were doing their own bit of scouting work. Bifur knelt down close to the earth, his eyes narrowed as he ran his fingers alone one of the paw prints left by a warg. "Rukhskhaî iudu Gundabad…" he murmured, his head tilting to the side.

"What's that, Bifur?" Bofur called. He started for his cousin, but something crunched under his foot. He stopped to see what it was.

Bifur stood up. "Rukhskhaî iudu Gundabad," he called out. "Iaktûb udu kuŋ."

Will glanced at Nori, who was closest to him and Lovisa. "What is he sayin'?" he asked.

"Bifur says the wargs aren't from Gundabad –but he doesn't know where they're from," Nori translated.

'Too big for south wargs,' Lovisa added. 'May be some unseen breed from east.'

"Could be," Will murmured. With a small sigh, he started back towards the horses, knowing that they would be heading off again soon. He paused, seeing Bofur staring at something in his hands. "Bofur, what'd ya find?" he curiously inquired, heading for the dwarf.

Bofur glanced up at him before looking back into his palm. He held a small bundle of twisted wire that had once born the shape of leaves and flowers. "I…I found Baylee's ear cuff."

Will frowned. "What?" Bofur held up the wire and he plucked it from his palm, carefully looking it over. "She never takes this off…" he murmured, swallowing hard.

"Oi!" Dwalin was some yards away, holding up a small bag. "I found somethin'!"

With a grim face, Will handed the cuff back to Bofur. "I think it's best if you keep a hold of that for now," he told him before hurrying over to Dwalin. Lovisa and Bifur were the first to reach him and by the time Will and Bofur got there, Dwalin was clutching a small, leather-bound book.

Ori's sketchbook.

"I guess they discarded anything they didn't find to be o' value," Nori murmured, going through the rest of Ori's bag to see what would have been taken. He found only crushed graphite and dirty pieces of cloth. All of Ori's coin had been taken as well as his comb –an odd thing to steal, Nori thought, until he remembered that it had rubies encrusted on its handle.

Dwalin flipped through the pages; he knew it had been empty when Ori left. It was nearly full now. "They don't know how much value this held t' him," he mumbled. With every picture he saw, he felt a pang in his heart, knowing that Ori must have been so happy while drawing these things. Knowing that he was now separated from his family, friends, and his art made him clench his teeth in anger. "Yeh can take a dwarrow from his home an' from his friends an' he'll still be a dwarrow…but if yeh take a dwarrow from his craft, then yer all but destroyin' him," he muttered darkly, closing the sketchbook.

Bofur set his hand on Dwalin's shoulder, though he said nothing. For once in his life, he was at a loss for words. Closing his eyes, he silently uttered a prayer to Aulë to keep the three safe and from harm. Then, he sent a prayer to Oromë, a god the dwarves did not often worship –he was the hunting god and a great friend to the elves. Never the less, he asked the Oromë for his blessing in their hunt to find their friends and, even if he could not grant them a fully blessing, to at least keep the trail plain enough for their eyes to see.


	17. Chapter 17

"Me deména y carcharorion!"

Ori yelped, being startled out of the light nap he was taking. Behind him, Ankita snorted as she brought the warg to a halt. He winced, the stopping motion of the large creature being none-too gentle and he lurched forward, his face smashing into the back of the warg's skull. Ankita cocked her brow before grabbing the back of his tunic and tugging him upright once more.

"Why are we stopping?" he dared to ask, glancing around. Over the last two days, the scenery had drastically changed from wide, open plains to ancient forests made up of twisted oak and fir trees. The air here was heavy and made Ori sweat under all of his clothes, but he endured it without complaint; Tyko had made the mistake of complaining sometime the previous week and ended up with a bruised jaw.

"Time to mask eyes," she told him, smirking.

He glanced over his shoulders and frowned at her. "Wh-what? Why?" he demanded, his voice shaking. He had never enjoyed having his eyes covered; it only left him feeling scared and all alone, even if there were people around. Even as a child, he hadn't liked the games of peek-a-boo Dori would play with him.

"Are reaching home," she replied as she slid off of the warg. "Can't have prisoners know how to escape, yeah?" She grinned at him before winking.

Swallowing hard, Ori looked across the group of wargs and women, trying to find Baylee and Tyko. Tyko he found some yards behind them, his eyes already bound and a gag wrapped around his mouth. Baylee, though, was in the midst of the pack, her shoulders slumped and her chin resting against her chest as she slept.

And then everything went black.

Ori struggled slightly against the blindfold as Ankita slid it around his face. "It's too tight," he protested. With his arms tied behind his back once more and his legs quite sore from the long days of riding, he was –to say the least- quite uncomfortable.

"Is fine," she told him. "Can fit finger between cloth and skull easily, so stop whining, yeah?" She climbed back onto the warg behind him, checking the harnesses one last time before calling over to Vlasta. The leader gave a nod and a whistle; the wargs took off. "Soon, little dwarf, will see beautiful homeland. Of course, won't see most of it; you are to be slave, yeah? May only get to see fields or mines!" She let out a throaty laugh.

Quietly grumbling to himself, Ori closed his eyes under the blindfold; it wasn't as if he was using them anyway. 'If they send me to the mines,' he thought, feeling the warg trot up hill, 'then there is a chance I could escape. Dwarrows are naturals at finding our way underground…' He scrunched his nose up slightly; the air was beginning to change. It was getting lighter and smelled less of moss and decay.

A few minutes later, a blast of cool, salty air blew against his face. He quietly gasped, for the air was a welcomed relief to the stifled warmth of the forest. Tilting his head back, he tried his best to see underneath the blindfold, but it was to no avail. He could only see a small sliver of light that did not grant him any sort of view.

Almost an hour passed before the ground leveled out once more. Vlasta raised her hand as they reached the edge of the cliff that would lead down into their city and a warm smile came to her lips. Giving out a command, she undid the blindfold around Baylee's eyes, though the younger woman continued to sleep. Her brow rose and she leaned down.

"It is time to wake up, eh?" she told her, lightly prodding her shoulder.

"I'm sleepin'," Baylee mumbled.

Vlasta chuckled. "Have reached home. Should open your eyes and look, eh? It's quite beautiful."

Cursing under her breath, Baylee lifted her head only to feel a dull ache in her neck from having her head tilted for so long. She rolled her head around her shoulders a bit before opening her eyes and blinking against the sunlight. When her eyes had adjusted, she found herself staring at a large town resting around the shores of an inland sea. The buildings looked as if they had once housed a great and wealthy people, though many of their stone walls had been taken over by centuries of ivy or climbing roses. If she squinted, she could see vast farm fields in the distance. She had a feeling that, if he had been allowed, Ori would have liked to stop and draw the scene.

"What do you think, eh?" Vlasta inquired as she led her warg down the narrow road leading down into the city. "Beautiful, isn't it?"

"It's…ah…very green," Baylee replied. In fact, the city was quite a pretty sight, but being held prisoner left her feeling rather pessimistic about this new place, no matter its beauty.

"Green is good color. Green is color of life, eh?" Tilting Baylee's head back, she smirked. "And it's the color of prettiest eyes."

Baylee swallowed hard, her cheeks turning deep red as Vlasta stared down at her. It wasn't the first time the leader had tried flirting with her, but it was one of the more bold and outright attempts. "I've seen prettier," she mumbled, forcing chin out of Vlasta's hand so she could look forward again.

"Hm. I haven't," Vlasta grinned. She glanced back at the other women, a small frown coming to her lips. Zuza was finding delight in prodding Ori's smooth jaw and hissing insults at him. Rolling her eyes, she barked an order at the woman and, with a pout of protest, Zuza stopped. Vlasta shook her head and looked back to the path ahead. "How well do you know the dwarf?" she asked, rather out of the blue.

Her brows furrowed slightly. "W-why?"

"Whenever stopped, you always go to him and fret. Have been giving him most of your food, even though are too skinny. Are you lovers, eh?" She chuckled quietly as Baylee's cheeks darkened once more.

"We're only friends."

"Then what about man? Have been fretting over him, too. Is he your lover?"

"No. I don't have a lover –an' just because I fret over someone doesn't instantly make 'em my lover," she scolded. "I worry about my friends an' I don't want them t' get hurt anymore."

"Then tell me of talents that three of you possess, eh? Will try to keep them from harm."

Baylee raised her brow and turned slightly, looking up at Vlasta. The woman looked quite wild with her face uncovered and her thick hair haphazardly pulled back. "You'll…what?"

She shrugged. "Try to keep from harm. What so surprising, eh? I don't hate males like Zuza or Brina. And you –you're cute and small, eh?" She winked at her. "So tell talents."

Wincing as she tried to move her bound arms, Baylee bit her tongue. "Well…um. Ori's an artist. He's quite good at drawin' an' paintin'. He also does a lot o' writing and researchin' things…I don't really know Tyko too well t' know his talents beside bein' a soldier."

Vlasta nodded slowly, thinking of various places that would readily accept an artist. She already knew where Tyko would end up –Prema had claimed him for her harem and had made sure that the rest of the group knew it. "Then what of you? What talents have you, eh?"

Baylee was silent for many minutes. She tried to think of something she was good at, but there was nothing coming to mind. She was no good with artistic things and she was only so-so at sewing. Even at cooking she wasn't very good with –the exception being baking, but even that didn't seem like a talent to her.

"Well?"

"I-I don't have a talent."

"Everyone has a talent."

She shook her head. "I can't think o' anything."

"Am sure you have one. Think harder, eh?"

Baylee rolled her eyes. "I did think!" she snapped. "I'm an inn maid; I don't have time for anythin' else other than makin' food an' servin' it to people." If she could rub her forehead, she would have; her patience had grown very thin these past two weeks.

Vlasta's brow rose. "Do people enjoy it when are served by you?"

She shrugged and glanced away, glowering at the sea. "They don't complain if that's what you mean."

"Then there is talent! Serving people." A mischievous grin came to her lips, bringing a sense of foreboding to Baylee. "Know plenty of people who need pretty little servants –don't worry, as top of pack, I decide where you go, eh? I'll make sure Ori and you end up safe."

"And Tyko…?"

She laughed and ruffled Baylee's hair –much to the shorter woman's annoyance. "Eh, Prema already claimed him. She's nice to her harem. Spoils them. Will take good care of him."

Baylee sighed, her eyes staring out at the sea; it reminded her of the Long Lake and her home. "She had better," she muttered.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Dwalin had his knees pulled to his chest as he kept third watch for the night, though his eyes were fixed on the low flames of the fire instead on the trees around them. He couldn't remember how many days ago they had departed from Dale; he had only been focused on following the quickly-fading trail. It must have been nearly three days since they had left the grassy plains behind them and had entered into a land of hard ground and short, rough grass. Trees dotted the landscape and were steadily growing closer and closer with each hour of travel.

Sighing, he tossed a small branch onto the flames, not caring when a few yellow-orange sparks flew into the air. He thought he may have heard a twig snap in the distance, but as he glanced over his shoulder, he could see nothing –even when squinting.

"Need any company?"

He glanced up as Bofur sat down across from him. "Yeh should be sleepin'."

"I can't sleep."

"Why?"

Bofur plucked up a stick and started poking at the fire. "Because I'm worried. I think we're losin' the trail. It's gettin' harder 'n harder by the hour for Lovisa t' find it. I mean, she's been doin' a good job o' findin' the way so far –even when it rained on us a couple o' days ago- an' t' know she's havin' t' look so hard…" He felt silent, still poking the coals.

Dwalin sighed. "I know how yeh feel, lad," he murmured. "Will an' Bifur have been tryin' their best t' help her, too. I just…I keep thinkin' what may be happenin' t' Ori an' I get worried. He's a tough lad, I know tha', but he's almost entirely without friends an' in a strange place." He rubbed his face, cursing.

Rubbing his temples, Bofur sighed. "I don't want t' think about what's happenin' to them anymore. I just want t' rescue 'em."

"You and the rest of us." Nori propped himself up on his elbow, having been awakened by the other two. "But we are getting closer, even if you two knuckleheads can't see it."

Dwalin cocked his brow as he looked at the former thief. "What makes yeh say that? We've been goin' south, not north –the prisoner said tha' their base was near the Iron Mountains. We're nowhere near those peaks."

"It's called lying." He brushed some of his hair from his face; it had been so long since he had properly tended to his hair that it was flat and he had been forced into leaving it in three long braids. "She's loyal to her people. She wouldn't give out the real location o' her group -even under pain o' death." He glanced up towards the sky. "If you haven't notice, we're nearing the Sea o' Rhûn."

"I noticed the salt in the air, but…I didn't think we were that far south," Bofur admitted. "But why do ya think we're gettin' closer just because we're near a sea?"

Nori raised his brow. "There are mountains blockin' their path to the west and south and a sea to the east. They're cornered. Their base must be somewhere in this area." He stretched back out on the ground, his hands behind his head. "And stop thinkin' about what may be happenin' to them –start thinking about how much more Ori and Baylee are goin' to cherish you when you rescue them."

"What?" both dwarrows chorused. They were baffled by the fact that it was Nori of all people attempting to give them words of comfort. He was normally the one laughing at such words and calling them false hopes.

"Don't tell me you haven't thought of it –their reactions when they see tha' you two helped save them." He closed his eyes; he thought he could hear something rustling nearby. "You'll be their heroes. I doubt Ori would want t' leave Dwalin's side after this, even though I'm sure Dori will fuss about and make him go home for at least a week. Baylee…" he shrugged, no longer hearing the noise, "well, she may give Bofur a kiss. Who knows?"

Bofur felt his cheeks darken. "Wouldn't mind that," he murmured, tossing his poking-stick into the flames.

"Me neither," Dwalin admitted, a hint of a grin coming to his lips. "Been a long while since I got t' even hold Ori…After this, I probably won't let go for three days or more." He quietly chuckled at the thought.

The three of them jumped as Lovisa suddenly sat up, a hoarse noise leaving her throat. Bofur was just about to ask what was wrong when he heard the creaking sound of bows being drawn. He swallowed hard and slowly held up his hands, trying to see who surrounded them from the corner of his eyes.

"What business do heavily-armed riders have in the lands of Dorwinion?"

Bofur narrowed his eyes. The voice sounded oddly familiar. Where had he heard it before?

"Speak up!" the person commanded, stepping into the light. Their face was covered from the nose down by brow, skin-tight cloth. Though he could not recognize the voice, Bofur recognized those eyes –he had wanted to leave one swollen shut and bruise just a couple of months ago.

"…Rán?"

~*~*~*~*~*~

Baylee was suddenly quite thankful for her small size.

The three prisoners had their wrists tied together, causing Tyko to be bent almost in half as he walked on Ori's left. In an attempt to relieve his pain, Ori and Baylee raised their arms up, though this was only a temporary fix, as they started to lose feeling soon after. For anyone watching them, it was an amusing sight, but for them, it was a painful situation.

Prema and Malasintha walked behind them while Vlasta was before them, leading them with a rope. They were being led down a narrow street, out of the eye of most of the city's inhabitants. From what people the prisoners did see, however, they could see that the men were mostly clean-shaven, though a few retained their beards and all wore collars made out of either metal or leather. Those with smooth chins had the lower half of their faces covered by thin, transparent veils. Some of the men–mostly those with the beards- were roaming about without a woman near them, but the rest were either walking alongside a woman or were being led about by a woman holding a leash attached to their collars.

"What sort of place is this?" Ori mumbled.

"One where women are in control," Tyko muttered. He glanced around, looking rather uncomfortable. "But it seems not all o' the men have it off bad. Some o' them seem t' be quite equal with the women."

"That they do," Baylee sighed. She scrunched her nose up; there was some scent in the air that was making her nose itch and she badly needed to sneeze.

Ori glanced up at Vlasta. "Where are you taking us?"

She looked at him from over her shoulder, her brow slightly raised. "Taking you to see queen," she answered. "Need to show her our spoils, eh?" Smirking, she lightly tugged on the rope, bringing them closer to her.

Baylee looked down at the ropes around her wrist. "Do we have t' be tied up like this?" she quietly asked.

"Could run away, yeah?" Malasintha laughed, resting her arm on her shoulder. "That'd be bad, so keep you tied up. Will be untied soon, so no worries, yeah?" She ruffled Baylee's hair before moving to toy with Ori's braids. He tried to lean his head away, but it was of no use. "Are cute for a dwarf," she admitted. "Will be shame seeing go into mines…have possibility of being quite good concubine."

"Except I'm not into lasses," Ori quietly growled, looking away from her.

Malasintha chuckled. "Yeah, know," she chirped, seeming to be not very disappointed by it. "Is fine though. Could just have feed me food and drink all day, yeah?" She gave him a playful wink before pulling back.

"Except he's not going into your harem, eh?" Vlasta told her. She then told the other two women something in their native tongue, earning a laugh from them. The three prisoners did not know whether they should feel afraid or not.

Ori shook his head. "At least we know Tyko's safe," he murmured. "Prema isn't about to let him get sent out of her sight."

Tyko shuddered. "You'd think it was a blessin', but she kisses like a pike…" he whispered. That earned a quiet giggle from Baylee.

"You would know what that's like?" she softly teased. She suddenly winced as she finally sneezed. However, she instinctively tried to cover her face with her arm, but only succeeded in accidentally yanking Ori and Tyko towards her. They cursed and stumbled, causing the three of them to tumble to the ground. "Sorry," she groaned, half pinned under Ori.

Their captors cracked up in a fit of laughter, as did some of the people nearby. Vlasta and Prema reached down, yanking the three of them to their feet, still giggling at what had happened. They grunted and winced, wobbling slightly before they righted themselves. Grinning, Prema dusted off Tyko's front, causing his cheeks to grow deep red in embarrassment.

Vlasta shook her head, giving Prema an order before continuing on down the street. "Almost there," she told their prisoners. "Is just around the corner. You are not to talk in front of queen, eh? She is strict woman. Does not tolerate it when prisoners have attitude, so just stay quiet, eh? Not want prisoners missing their tongues."

Baylee shuddered at the thought and unconsciously scooted a little closer to Ori. He glanced up at her, trying to give her a reassuring smile. "We'll be fine," he quietly told her.

"Vlasta told me that she wasn't goin' t' let you 'n me go somewhere bad," she murmured. "I don't know if I should believe her or not…"

"Well, she has taken a bit o' a liking to us…even if it does mostly involve feeding us strange soup that leaves us making odd faces…"

She nodded. "Though, that odd lemon and mint soup was actually pretty tasty…"

Ori and Tyko cocked their brows. "It was far too tart," Tyko told her, "and the mint was odd with it." Ori nodded in agreement.

Lightly shaking her head, Baylee sighed. She had enjoyed the soup's tartness; then again, that was why she loved lemons so much. She understood, however, that not everyone enjoyed their sour flavor. 'At least there is one upside to being kidnapped,' she thought, 'because home certainly doesn't have as many lemons as down here…'

She was pulled from her thoughts as they were led past a pair of heavily armed, female guards and into the yard of largest building the three prisoners had seen yet. Climbing roses had taken over the building's façade, leaving it covered by vines and blossoming flowers. As Vlasta and the others approached, a bearded man bowed to them, speaking to Vlasta in their tongue. She replied and motioned at the prisoners before he opened the door and allowed them to step inside.

As the three prisoners were led into the building, the man hurried off, leaving them to wait by the door. They found the entrance hall to be surprisingly bright and airy, though the air was heavily scented with the scent of orchids. Baylee's nose started to itch again, and she let out a tiny sneeze, managing to keep herself from trying to cover it. She sneezed twice more before the footman returned to lead them off.

"Are alright?" Malasintha asked her, her brows furrowing.

"Orchids and my nose don't get along," Baylee replied, her voice sounding a little funny from all the sneezes. "I'll be f-fi-" Another sneeze.

Vlasta raised her brow. "Don't breathe through nose, eh?" Her tone sounded more serious now that they were in the palace and Baylee found herself doing her best to suppress any other sneezes.

The footman pushed open a pair of wooden doors and they were brought into a large room with a vaulted ceiling. There were cushions everywhere and lying on those cushions were three people –two veiled men and a woman. The men, they saw, wore ornate collars, marking them as concubines, while the woman was dressed in simple clothing and jewelry –a servant, perhaps? At the far end of the room there was a throne with a woman sprawled across it, her legs crossed. Earthy red-brown designs were painted over her golden skin, broken up only by the occasional piece of jewelry here and there. Her lips, painted black, were pulled back in a grin as she watched the three raiders approach with their catch. Almost her entire left cheek was covered in precious stones of varying sizes.

Malasintha and Prema lightly pushed down on the threes' shoulders, signaling for them to kneel. As they awkwardly did so, the two women made them bow their heads as well before they, too, knelt. Stuck there and left unable to see the queen as she started to talk, the prisoners focused their attention on listening to the conversation starting up between Vlasta and the queen, though they knew they wouldn't be able to understand what was said.

Ori subtly nudged Baylee and wiggled his hands about in a very rudimentary form of Iglishmêk. 'How feel?'

'Not breathe well,' she replied, having to spell most of her sentence out for him. 'Need sneeze. Not want to.'

'Sneeze. Can't help if sick.'

'Am afraid.'

'Is bad to hold in.'

They ceased their conversation as Prema walked before them and began untying Tyko's wrists from theirs. He swallowed hard, glancing at them; he had a hopeless look on his features. He mouthed 'Good luck' before he was led off by Prema. Baylee nervously bit her tongue, feeling tears welling up in her eyes at the thought of possibly never seeing him again.

'We were supposed to all get out of here,' she told herself. 'How can we do that now that he's being taken who-knows-where by Prema? Not to mention, Ori and I have no idea where we're ending up.' She clenched her eyes shut and rested her head against his shoulder, feeling him lean his head against hers. 'Please, Valar, don't let us get separated…Please. I promised to watch over him; you can't let me break that promise.'

She heard the rustling of moving cloth and opened her eyes in time to see the sandaled feet of the queen walking towards the two of them. Vlasta said something, but was abruptly cut off as the queen lifted her hand. Crouching down in front of the dwarf and human, she tilted her head and curiously looked the two over.

"Such an odd pair," she remarked, her hands reaching out and gently cupping Baylee and Ori's chins. She lifted their heads so that she could get a better view of their faces. "It's rare to find human and dwarf who are so close." Her voice was deep and smooth; it almost reminded Baylee of a drink that Will had brought her once. If she remembered correctly, it had been called 'chocolate'.

Ori swallowed hard, but found himself surprised by her near-perfect Westron. Now that she was closer to them, he could see that this woman had to be –at most- in her late thirties. She wore white, knee-length trousers and a long, sleeveless green tunic heavily embroidered with silver thread. Her black hair was tied back in many intricate braids, a look that Ori hated to admit he was impressed by. He forced himself to hold the woman's gaze, not wanting to reveal to her that he was afraid of her.

Baylee, on the other hand, was forced to look away as yet another sneeze managed to work its way out of her nose. Two more followed suit with a fourth behind determinedly held back, despite her quivering jaw. The fifth, however, escaped and she groaned.

"Someone isn't fond of my incense, it seems," the queen chuckled, watching as Baylee's cheeks darkened. "Vlasta, look at all these freckles! Have seen a person with so many freckles before?" She giggled and pulled a silken handkerchief from within her sleeve.

Vlasta shifted, the only sign that betrayed her unease. "No, my queen."

'She doesn't seem as strict as Vlasta made her out to be,' Ori found himself thinking. He watched as she used the silk to clean up Baylee's face. 'Gentle, even…yet she commands these raiders?'

"Thank-you," Baylee mumbled, her voice still a bit on the nasally side. Vlasta winced as she spoke, but the queen merely smiled.

"A queen must be generous to her subjects, no matter if slaves, concubines, or free folk," she mused, folding the handkerchief and tucking it back into her sleeve. Reaching out, she slid her hand into Ori's hair. "Have not met a dwarf with hair as soft as yours," she told him. In an almost childlike manner, she bit her lower lip and started to run both hands through his hair. "Is almost like silk…surely you must have been the envy of the dwarves back in your home?"

"N-no," Ori replied, his cheeks turning as red as Vlasta's hair. He heard one of the men behind him chuckle and whisper to the other man.

"Shame. You should be." She cupped his chin between her index finger and thumb, giving it a playful wiggle. "And you've such a cute face!" Standing, she turned to look back at Vlasta, asking her questions in their own tongue again.

Vlasta replied, stiffening slightly. Her eyes kept glancing over to the prisoners, something that the queen noticed. A mischievous grin came to her lips as she went to her throne and sprawled out in it once more.

"Vlasta has told me she has decided where two of you will go," she told Baylee and Ori. "Let us hope she sends you somewhere that is nice." She waved a hand to the other woman, motioning for her to speak.

Baylee and Ori held their breaths, expecting to hear the worst.

"Baylee will join my harem," Vlasta spoke, her voice revealing only a hint of nervousness, "and Ori a servant to harem."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Rán rubbed his temple, having been silent the entire time he listened to the group's tale of how Ori and Baylee had been captured by a band of all-female, warg-riding raiders and how they were hunting said raiders down. To anyone else, it would have sounded ridiculous –after all, Middle Earth had kingdoms, not queendoms- but he knew better. He and his rangers had been trying to find the secret home of the raiders for years, but with no luck. That's why he was surprised that this group from Dale had made it even this far.

"No one has ever seen their base," he told them at length. "We've been searching five years and we have yet to find it."

"Lovisa's an excellent tracker," Dwalin replied.

He nodded slowly, massaging his forehead tiredly. He hadn't slept in two days because of the news he had heard about a heavily armed group of riders and had wanted to deal with them. "So…what did you plan to do upon discovering their base of operations?" He watched as they all looked between each other, some of them shrugging.

"We…sort o' discussed Nori an' Lovisa sneaking in t' get a look of the place," Will answered. "But those discussions never got very far." He glanced over his shoulder at the man standing behind him; the rangers, despite having tucked their bows away, still had the group of travelers huddled in a group as if they were captives. "We need to see the place before we get any sort o' solid plan formed."

Rán cocked his brow, not seeming very impressed by this news. "You have not any sort of plan?" he repeated. "Then you are on a suicide mission. These women are not just raiders –they are skilled warriors with brains!" His voice was getting harsher with each word. "Do you think they would leave their base unguarded so that they could be discovered?"

"And do yeh think we're goin' t' let 'em go without tryin' t' rescue them?" Dwalin snapped. "They're our friends an' our family –we're willin' t' die t' seem 'em safe!"

Nori reached over, placing his hand over Dwalin's chest to make sure he didn't do anything rash. Dwalin gave him a sidelong glance, as if thanking him for holding him back.

Watching him, Rán leaned back, resting his hands on his knees. "I am well aware of this, Master Dwalin, but that does not stop me from believing you all to be foolishly rash about this matter." He glanced past the dwarves and human at his rangers before letting out a heavy sigh. "As such, we are going to accompany you. Not only will you –hopefully- get Miss Baylee and Master Ori back, but we will discover the whereabouts of the raiders. You will also have reinforcements should anything go wrong."

Lovisa cleared her throat. Will shifted, watching as her hands hurriedly spoke for her. "She wants proof that you're truly rangers o' Dorwinion," Will told them.

Bofur nodded. "Truthfully, we'd like the same proof. I mean, you seem like rangers 'n all, but you could just be more raiders. You wear no sigil o' your country or anythin'."

At that, Nakara let out a laugh. "Of course we bear sigils of home realm," he told them. "They are not obvious with just a glance." He pulled the necks of his tunic and undershirt down and reached under his clothes, pulling out a necklace. All the rangers followed suit, Will and Nori leaning forward to inspect them.

After looking the necklaces –which had pendants of thick glass shaped into a black elk- Nori gave a curt nod. "They're rangers," he told the others. "We can trust them."

Lovisa slowly nodded, though her eyes were still narrowed in suspicion. She glanced over at Bifur as he set his hand on her shoulder.

'Everything be fine,' he reassured her in Iglishmêk. He gave her a small smile, but it was hidden beneath his beard in the dim light.

Lovisa merely nodded in response and let out a quiet sigh. She still didn't entirely trust the rangers, even after being given proof. Shaking her head, she brushed her bangs out of her face and watched as Bofur leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. She had noticed that he and Rán had been throwing glares at one another ever since the rangers arrived.

'I know they met before,' she thought, 'so I wonder what had transpired between them…?'

"So, does this mean we're free t' move about again?" Bofur questioned. "Or are your rangers goin' t' continue standin' around us like we're your captives?"

Rán's brow rose and he gave a signal, the other rangers easing up and moving to sit down on the ground behind him and grab some food for the night. Bofur, however, stood up and walked off into the darkness so that he could relieve himself. "We need to come up with some semblance of a plan." He was speaking more to Will and Lovisa, since they seemed to be in charge of the group. "We know that they have wargs, so when we come into the forest, I will have Fifika find an herb that will mask our scent."

Lovisa nodded, her hands moving about as she signed to Will. "She says that she knows of the herb you're talkin' about," he translated. "She didn't know it grows this far south."

He nodded. "It does, though mostly in mountainous regions." Covering his mouth, he hid a large yawn from the two of them.

"You should get some sleep," Will told him. "You look exhausted."

"And I am exhausted; we all are. Once we heard of your group, we came as fast as we could."

Nori stretched back out on his blankets. "How did you even hear o' us? From what we've seen, we haven't passed by any villages or cities."

Will glanced at him. "We have passed villages, though they're not too noticeable unless you're lookin' for them," he answered for Rán. "Those who live in the Dorwinion plains dig their homes into the ground; all those mounds we've seen the last few days? Those are homes. It keeps them warm durin' winter an' cool during summer."

Nakara nodded as he offered Ashailyn some water from his flask. She gladly took it. "For being a citizen of Dale, you know quite a bit about our people," he commented.

"I've been t' Avënor a number o' times throughout my life," he chuckled. "In fact, when you lot came t' Dale, I had only been home a few days from my last trip there."

"You are one of the traders then?" Hunil asked, chewing some jerky.

Will nodded. "Aye, I am. I wish I could be here on better circumstances, but…" he shook his head.

As they spoke, Rán sighed and rose to his feet, walking off into the trees as well. He was just about duck behind a tree when he spotted Bofur walking back to camp. His brow rose and a feeling of jealousy welled up inside of him at the sight of the dwarf; he remembered quite well how close he and Baylee had seemed.

Passing by him, Bofur grumbled something under his breath and shoved his hands in his pockets to keep himself from hitting the ranger. He did, however, shoot him a highly territorial glare. A quiet sigh left his mouth as his fingers brushed against the warm metal of the ruined ear cuff. Returning to his bedroll, he lay down and pulled his cloak over himself, trying to will himself to go back to sleep.

'She better be alright,' he thought, his eyes closing. His thumb stroked the metal wires of the cuff. 'I don't know what I'd do if she weren't…And it doesn't help that Rán's here now. I'm sure he'll try to woo her…' He clenched his teeth, his brows furrowing. 'He won't succeed. She doesn't know him well enough to fancy him.'

In an attempt to calm himself down, he thought back to Nori's words earlier and a small smile came to his lips. 'I'm not going to get my hopes up, though…a kiss would be nice, but a hug would work just as well. Just knowing she's alive and well would be enough.'

He opened an eye when he heard someone lay down near him. There was no one in front of him, so he lifted his head and glanced over his shoulder to see Bifur pulling his cloak around him. It wasn't a particularly cold night, so their cloaks and capes were blankets enough. He noticed that his cousin looked a bit troubled, though he couldn't tell if it was because of their situation or if he was suffering from another ax-induced headache. Regardless, he let out a quiet sigh and closed his eyes; this time, he did fall asleep.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"I'm surprised I was able t' fit so many braids into your hair, what with it being so short now…"

"My hair feels really heavy now thanks t' all those trinkets the others had ya put in. I almost feel like I'm goin' t' fall over."

"Well, you're a…a concubine now, so I guess you're supposed t' look really fancy all of the time."

Baylee pulled her knees to her chest and rested her chin atop them. She watched Ori as he poured some sort of lemon drink –Vlasta had called it 'limonata'- into a cup and handed it to her. "Thank you," she sniffed, taking it. "As much as I love lemons, I may get sick o' 'em soon…" She sniffed again, her nose still runny from the orchids earlier.

Ori quietly chuckled. "Don't worry. Dinner hasn't any lemons in it or near it. In fact, it's rather…Dale-like."

"Oh?" She sipped the drink. It was good, being tart and sweet at the same time. "How so?"

"Lamb rubbed with herbs and…I think it's called olive oil? Along with rosemary potatoes and some weird sort o' mashed bean mixture."

She nodded. "Aye, olive oil. Will brought us some once…it was…interestin' to cook with. I liked it because it kept things from stickin' better than butter, grease, or lard. Had a funny flavor, though." Setting her cup aside, she slid off of the bed, many metal trinkets in her hair and on her clothing tinkling as did so, and walked over to the window, opening it. Vlasta had made her home in one of the buildings closest to the sea, allowing for a cool, salty breeze to blow in. It was one of the few things Baylee admitted she liked about the place –so far, at least.

"Do you need anything else?" Ori asked, watching her.

Hopping up, she sat on the windowsill, her back resting against the cool stone. "Just because Vlasta made ya a servant doesn't mean I'm goin' t' treat ya like one," she told him. She looked back at him, a pitying look coming to her face. As a servant, Ori had to keep the lower half of his face covered by one of the sheer veils that most men wore –and yet, his torso and arms were bare, save for an armband of bronze on his left arm. He had no trousers, only a knee-length skirt and sturdy sandals. "I'm sorry you have t' walk around in a skirt, Ori…I know men prefer trousers-"

He chuckled. "Ah, I don't mind it so much. This is actually very close t' what we wore in Ered Luin during the summer or any sort of festival," he told her.

Her brows furrowed in confusion. "What?"

"Aye…it would get so warm in those mountains during summer –thanks to all of the furnaces goin', you know- that we males just tossed off our shirts an' trousers and started wearin' skirts. Only, we called them kilts. Some men wore them, too, but I think that was only west of the Misty Mountains." He moved to sit on the foot of her bed. "If it's any consolation, I'm actually a bit relieved to have so little clothes right now; this place is really warm."

She smiled, tucking one of her braids behind her ear. "At least there's that." Looking back out of the window, she watched the waves roll up onto the sandy beach. "What sort o' chores do ya have t' do? Well…besides serve us in the harem…" She sneezed –just once; she had gotten over the main sneezing fit after her bath.

"Just that, really. Even then, Vlasta told me I'm more of your servant than anything, though if one o' the other concubines asks me to do something, I'm to do it, since they're above me." His hands toyed with one of the metal decorations lining the hem of his skirt. "They're nice, you know…the other concubines. There are only three of them. All o' them male, but they're nice. They'd like to meet you."

"I'll meet them in time." She unconsciously rubbed a bruise on her arm; the concubines may have been nice, but the servant girl who had been instructed to help bathe her that morning had been anything but. She reminded Baylee of Brina, but without Vlasta around to keep watch, she had gotten away with painfully tugging her around and smacking her when she hadn't been quick enough or understood her broken Westron.

Ori nodded slowly and sighed. "We will get out of here, you know," he told her after some minutes.

Baylee looked back at him. "Of course we will," she chuckled. "Dwalin's probably on his way already." She rubbed her eyes as she sniffled.

He smiled. "Don't forget Bofur. No doubt he's on Dwalin's heels, flailing his mattock."

Her cheeks turned beet red. "Wh-why Bofur?" she inquired curiously.

Ori raised his brow, giving her a look. "Oh, don't even pretend t' hide it, Baylee. I know you fancy Bofur."

Eyes widening and cheeks getting even darker, Baylee looked very startled. "B-but I never told ya that!"

"You didn't have to." He quietly chuckled and scratched his chin under the veil. "On the way here, you'd mumble about him in your sleep. That is, when you slept."

A frown came to her face. "What d'ya mean?"

He shrugged, laying back. "You obviously dreamt about him. You would mumble to him, like you were havin' a conversation' with him –mostly about how ya wanted him t' come rescue us. I don't think he ever made it, though, because you woke up screaming sometimes…"

She rubbed the back of her neck. "I don't remember the parts with Bofur," she quietly told him, "only the nightmares."

"Those must be horrible nightmares you have then."

"They are, because they're not imaginary dreams. They're real memories." She gave him a small smile. "Is there any food on tha' tray?"

He shook his head as he sat up. "No, but I can get you some."

"Ya can show me t' the kitchen, but I won't have you doin' servant work for me." Sliding off of the windowsill, she grabbed her cup of limonata and finished it before heading for the door. "I told you that already."

Ori hopped up, following after her. "Be careful around the cook," he warned. "She's quick t' smack you with a spoon if you're stealing a nibble from something."

"Have you tried?"

"No, but a different servant did and now he has a big welt on his cheek." He slipped by her once they were in the hallway and, taking her hand, led her down to the kitchen. It was a relatively short journey and they saw no one else on the way. Poking his head into the kitchen, he looked around and found that the cook was nowhere in sight. Breathing a sigh of relief, he brought Baylee into the room. "I don't really know where everything is yet…"

"Not surprisin', bein' that we've only been here two days." She started to explore the room, pausing once in a while to adjust her top. After that, she kept her arms crossed over her scarred stomach. It was nothing more than a long, wide piece of cloth that looped around her neck and was secured tightly against her chest by a decorative cord just under her breasts. Her trousers were no better –they ended at her knees and had large holes on the outer part of the leg, showing off her thighs. She had never before worn clothing that bared so much skin and she was not the least bit comfortable, even with how warm it was.

'Why couldn't I just wear a tunic like the queen?' she thought, opening a cupboard door. Inside were bowls and plates. 'She gets to wear covering clothes; why can't I? Oh Valar, if Bofur does come with Dwalin to rescue us, I hope I'm not in this!' She shuddered at the thought.

"You're in entirely the wrong area. That is, if you're looking for food."

Baylee and Ori spun around, the former letting out a curse as she did so. Standing the doorway was a man in his mid-thirties, clad in much the same garb as Ori but only with much more jewelry. Under his veil, the two of them could see that he sported a braided goatee.

"You must be the new concubine," he chuckled, approaching Baylee. "I'm Dag. Sorry if I startled you." He held out his hand to her.

Hesitantly, she reached out and shook his hand. "B-Baylee," she replied, her arm unconsciously moving to cross over her stomach again.

"You're the first woman Vlasta's taken into the harem," he mused, looking her over. "An' you're a young'n. How old are ya? Sixteen? Seventeen?"

"…Just turned twenty-five, actually," she murmured, glancing away shyly. She bit her tongue, suddenly feeling even smaller and more vulnerable than before. Again, she rubbed her arm. "Not even sure why she made me a concubine…I'm much more suited t' bein' a servant, since I work in an inn."

He set his hand on his hip, laughing; it was a friendly laugh. "Vlasta doesn't need a reason to do anything. She just does it." Walking across the kitchen, he opened a door that led into a pantry. "Except, of course, when Damayanti comes t' call."

"Damayanti?" Ori asked, his brows furrowing. "Who's she?"

Dag turned, looking at him. "The queen. Haven't ya met her yet? That was the first place Vlasta took me when she captured me."

"We met her, but we didn't learn her name," Ori explained. He walked past Dag and into the pantry.

"Stay out o' the left side of the room," Dag warned, "or else Hezra will tan your hide. The right side is all the food meant for snackin' an' whatnot. But whatever's on the left is for proper meals and company."

Baylee watched as the two males disappeared into the pantry, leaving her to aimlessly wander about the kitchen. It was much bigger than the Tankard's kitchen, which surprised her –it had been big even for an inn- but it was almost more organized.

'Don't see why it shouldn't be. This cook doesn't have dozens of people to cook for every day…just a few.' She suppressed a sneeze as she looked out of the window. 'And that Dag…he speaks Westron fluently. He even sounds like he came from Lake Town…'

"You know, that maroon color doesn't suit you. I don't know why Vlasta would have ya walkin' around in that when me 'n the others got colors that compliment us."

She squeaked and spun around again only to find Dag leaving the pantry with a small block of cheese in his hand. Ori was returning with some cheese and slices of bread for him and Baylee. "S-sorry, what?" she asked.

He gave her a pitying look. "I startled ya again, didn't I? I'm sorry…" He rubbed the back of his neck, looking rather ashamed. "Here I am, babblin' like there's no tomorrow when I should be tryin' to console you or something. After all, ya must be terrified if you were brought all the way from Dale like Ori here says."

"I'm just…" She rubbed her arm. "It's just a lot t' take in is all. Maybe after a few days, I'll be less jumpy."

"Doubt it. It took me nearly a month to adjust." He pulled a knife out of a drawer and handed it to Ori, but before the dwarf could take it, Baylee darted forward and took it, starting to slice the cheese. "Ya know, if Hezra comes in an' sees ya doin' that-"

"Ori's my friend, not my servant," she quietly told him. "I live an' work in an inn; I serve him meals. An' it's alright. I'll be fine in a couple o' days. I just need some nights o' proper sleep an' some food tha' isn't made primarily o' mint." Glancing up, she gave him a reassuring smile; even though she had known him for all but of ten minutes, she could tell that this man was truly nice and didn't mean her harm. She hoped the other two concubines were the same, but didn't have much hope for it.

Dag glanced over at the dwarf who merely nodded. "Well…when you've finished, the two o' you should come out into the garden. Jacek an' Motke want t' meet ya." He gave her a teasing grin. "An' don't worry. We're sick o' mint, too."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Lovisa was practically on all fours as she followed a set of tracks. They were old, with the prints of deer and wild pigs crossing over their paths, but she was just barely able to read them. She cursed the light-footedness of the wargs, wishing that they could be more like their western cousins.

'At this rate, I'll lose the trail soon,' she thought, scrunching her nose up. She paused and tiredly rubbed her face. 'We're not even in the forest yet, just on the outskirts! With this dry weather and all the debris on the forest floor, it'll be impossible…'

Tilting her head up, she could see that they were just a few short miles from the foothills of the mountains. The mountains themselves loomed over them, their steep sides covered with birch, oak, and poplar. Sighing, she closed her eyes and hung her head, rubbing the back of her neck, her weariness trying to tell her that she was too old for this, that she should just give up-

Bonk.

She winced, rubbing the top of her head. Why would the tracks lead her into a ruddy tree of all things? Glowering at the tree, she stood upright and rolled her head around her shoulders, feeling her neck creak and crack before some bones popped back into their proper positions.

A twig snapped behind her. "It would be wise for you to take a break, Lady Lovisa." Turning, she found Ashailyn approaching her. "Have been going almost nonstop nearly two days –and who knows how long before that? Need to rest. Know the captives are dear, but you'll be of no use to them half-dead from exhaustion."

Lovisa could only nod, knowing that these strangers did not know any form of Iglishmêk. Part of her did not want to give up the chase, but the sensible –and louder- part of her told her to go back and try to nap atop her horse. Rather than walking all the way back to the rest of the group, who were nearly a quarter of a mile away, she rested her back against a tree and closed her eyes, listening and waiting for them to arrive.

When she opened her eyes, it had grown rather dark and she was atop a horse with someone riding in front of her. Her head snapping up, she looked around, bewildered. They were no longer on the outskirts of the forest, but deep within it, their horses steadily climbing uphill. The dwarf in front of her –Bifur, she guessed from the black-and-white hair- yawned before glancing over his shoulder. He looked a little startled to find her awake, but smiled, raising his hands to sign.

'How nap?'

'Too long. On trail?'

He shook his head. 'Lost it. Rán, Ashailyn scouted forward. Not find much. Found scent-covering herbs, though. Have rubbed them on horses.'

She rubbed her face with both hands, mentally cursing. Why did she have to fall asleep?! If she had stayed awake, she could have kept them on it…Bifur patted her knee reassuringly, causing her to peek out from behind her fingers.

'Have done good job. Got this far,' he assured her. 'Let rangers take over. Know these lands.'

Nodding slowly, she sighed and glanced away. She didn't want to let him know that, without being able to follow any trail, she felt rather useless now. 'Then again,' she thought, 'that's probably how they feel…Especially poor Dwalin and Will.' She looked over only to find that Will was missing –as were Bofur, Rán, and Nakara.

'Where Will?' she asked Bifur.

'Scouting with Rán.'

'Bofur with?'

He nodded.

'Not sure that good thing…'

 

Lovisa was right in thinking that it was not a good thing. Half a mile away, Bofur was sprinting in an attempt to keep up with Will, Rán, and Nakara. Regardless of his inability to keep up with the taller, quieter adventurers, he was able to hold something over their heads: He had found a set of fresh tracks a little less than twenty minutes ago. Despite this, they had not thanked him, but had instead started running forward.

The three suddenly stopped, causing Bofur to smack into Will. He stumbled forward, but caught himself and Bofur before either of them could fall. "Why'd we stop?" Bofur grunted, rubbing his forehead.

"The path separates," Nakara answered, pointing at the ground.

Rán leaned down to the ground, his eyes searching both set of tracks. "I cannot tell which is newer," he told the others. "We will need to split up."

"I'll go with Nakara," Will replied, "since my eyes aren't as sharp."

Bofur silently argued against this; he didn't want to be left alone with Rán. Regardless, as Rán pointed for Will and Nakara to take the trail leading to the right, he followed to the left. The path that he and Rán were taking seemed to go uphill rather than down –it also led into the thickest part of the trees. What he didn't know, though, was that the ranger was not accustomed to such dense forests or steep slopes; Dorwinion was mostly flat and the foothills were quickly tiring him with their ups and downs.

For the most part, the two of them were silent. They knew full well that they were hated by the other and so they kept their mouths shut, not wanting to start any sort of fight at the moment. The only time they spoke was when they lost the trail and one of them had found it again some ways away. It had mostly been Rán who had rediscovered the tracks this time around; Bofur didn't have as much skill when it came to hunting things. He had the sheer determination, but not the ability to read which tracks belonged to which animal.

Abruptly, they stepped out of the trees and onto a wide, stone ledge. Cool, salty air filled their lungs and brought relief to their warm, sweaty bodies. As they neared the edge of the cliff face, their eyes widened, for below them was a small city covered in ivy. With night quickly approaching, they could see lights filling some of the windows. Out in the bay, they could see small sailing vessels meant for fishing or for trading goods with other shore-dwelling peoples.

Rán sank to his knees and, clasping his hands together, mumbled a prayer of thanks to Oromë in his native tongue, his eyes closing. Bofur, however, set the shaft of his mattock on the ground and rested his arms atop it.

"Finally," he murmured, grinning slightly. "Now t' just find Ori, Baylee, 'n Tyko an' get them out o' there…"

His brow rising, Rán glanced up at the dwarf. "Do you honestly believe it will be that easy?" he asked, getting back to his feet. "We cannot just march into the city and demand their return. We would be killed!"

Bofur rolled his eyes. "O' course we're not goin' t' just go right on in," he snapped. "We're goin' t' come up with some sort o' plan for some o' us t' sneak in an' get a good look 'round the place. Since they were female raiders, we'll probably send in all the women so tha' they won't be questioned."

"And yet, our women do not have the clothing that these women wear, so once more, your 'plan' is rendered useless."

Growling, Bofur narrowed his eyes and looked up at the ranger. "Well, then, what's your bright idea, eh?"

"We returned to Avënor and get permission from the king to gather an army," he stated, his arms crossing over his chest. "And then we attack the city, overwhelming them with our larger numbers."

Bofur stared at him in stupefied shock. "Ya can't just attack an entire city! That's insane!"

"They are raiders, Bofur. They need to be stopped."

"One group o' raiders doesn't mean the whole city is full o' villains!" he cried. He pointed at the bay. "Look, clearly they've got innocent folk livin' there, elsewise there wouldn't merchant vessels or-" he pointed to the south, "farmlands!" He grunted as Rán suddenly grabbed his jacket and shoved him against a tree.

"I have been searching for this city for five years," he snarled. Something about his voice was off, though –it sounded higher pitched than it should have. "I am not about to take orders from a lowly toymaker regarding this situation!"

Before he could stop himself, Bofur slammed his fist into Rán's face. The ranger let go of him and stumbled back, cursing as his nose filled with pain. "Ya wouldn't even have found this place if it weren't for us!" he spat. "So I think we deserve a bit o' credit an' a say in what we do. Especially since our friends are down there. Do ya have any sort o' idea what could happen if we were t' just go in, willy-nilly an' attack the place?!"

Wiping the first drops of blood away from his nose, Rán looked down at his red fingers before glancing up at Bofur. "Of course I do," he snarled. "But it's the only way."

"It is not the only way!"

With a curse, Rán darted forward and tackled Bofur to the ground. Punches, kicks, bites, and even head-butts were all exchanged as the two rolled around on the ground, not caring that their clothes were getting ripped and torn in places. Rán had managed to rip Bofur's hat from his head and gripped his hair, slamming his face into the ground. In return, Bofur slammed his knee between Rán's legs, though it hadn't earned as much of an effect as he had hoped.

By the time Nakara and Will found them, Bofur had gained the upper hand and had Rán pinned to the ground. Both their faces were covered in blood and dirt; their knuckles were just as badly damaged. Will started to rush forward to pull them apart, but Nakara caught his arm and stopped him.

"It is their fight," Nakara quietly told him.

"They'll kill each other!"

Nakara merely shook his head and continued to hold him back.

"If we attack tha' city with a feckin' army," Bofur was shouting, "then Baylee an' Ori an' Tyko could end up dead in the chaos! Do ya really want that!? Do ya really want Baylee dead!?"

"You know I do not!" he snarled. "But it is the only way to get into the city! We do not have the clothes to make proper disguises for the women or wargs to ride in on!"

Bofur growled and smacked him across the face one last time. "The front gate isn't the onl' option, especially when Nori's around!" He got to his feet and stumbled back toward Will and Nakara, snatching his hat off of the ground. "Nori can get us into the city an' get us disguises. We didn't bring him along just because he's Ori's brother, after all." Spitting on the ground, he could see a bit of blood mixed with his saliva.

Rán's brows furrowed and he pushed himself onto his elbows. "I know the front gate is not the only option," he bit back, his tone less harsh, "but we are outnumbered and if they continue to be as smart as they have been, then they surely have those other entrances guarded. They are thieves, after all, so they know where to keep extra guard. As far as I am aware, none of you are able to think like thieves."

"Like I said," Bofur suddenly smirked, "with Nori around, there are always other ways in."


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **These next few chapters do have some gruesome imagery**. Ye of weak stomachs -thou hast been warned.

Nori was flat on his stomach and had his eyes shielded from the early-morning sun as he looked over the city. From what he could see, the city had only three entrances: North, south, and east. The western section of the city was entirely walled off, though the forest was thick around it. The closest entrance, the north gate, didn't have much activity around it, but he counted at least six armed guards standing around.

'There's one way in,' he told himself, gaze returning to the forest. 'The other way would be through the water…' He turned his head ever so slightly, getting a better look at the bay. 'One of us could see where the boats go and, if they come anywhere near shore…we could, quite possibly, hijack it and its crew.'

His brow rose and a smirk came to his lips; just as sudden as the grin came, it left. 'No. That'd be far too cumbersome. The forest would be the best bet. No doubt, though, they have some sort of patrols in the forest. They'd be stupid not to…Stupid or arrogant.'

Reaching into his pocket, he drew out the gem that he had taken from the barkeep. 'One woman can walk in once I manage to…procure some clothing for her. It'll probably end up being Kreine or Ashailyn. I'd make it Lovisa because of how attractive she is, but without a voice…' He shook his head and crawled away from the edge of the cliff. When he was far enough away, he stood up and returned to the group who were camped ten minutes away.

"So? What did yeh find?" Dwalin asked when he returned. He tore a piece of jerky in half. Popping one half in his mouth, he offered the other to Nori.

"I'm positive their main gates at the north an' south are heavily guarded," he answered, sitting down and taking the offering of food. "But towards the ocean, there aren't as many guards -if any at all. To the west, though, I don't think there's any. We'd have t' get down in the cover o' the trees to make sure of this, but I think we can get in that way."

Fifika tilted her head as she rubbed a bit of grey paste into one of Rán's bruises. "We still not have clothes to blend in," she told him. "How are we to fix that?"

He nodded in understanding. "If we find that wall unguarded," Nori explained as he chewed on the jerky, "then I'll sneak in tonight, under cover of darkness. With any luck, I'll find a couple sets o' clothing and some of the women can enter in with me the next day without looking out of place."

Rán glanced at him, wincing when Fifika continued to dab the paste onto his skin. "Are you positive you can find clothes?"

"I could find a piece o' gold in a room full of silver."

"Then try to find five sets."

"But there are only four women."

"Are five of us," Kreine mused. She was putting the same grey paste around Bofur's left eye.

Dwalin cocked his brow. "No there isn't. There are four. Lovisa, Ashailyn, Kreine, an' Fifika."

Rán raised his brow. "I thought dwarves could tell the females apart from the males?"

Nori snorted. "We can. That's why we know there are only four-" He stopped talking, for Rán was pulling off his tunic. "What are you doing…?"

Rán raised his brow –only, as he pulled off his undershirt, everyone could see that Rán was not a he, but a she. "As I said," she told them, a smug tone to her voice, "I thought that dwarves could tell the difference between sexes?"

The dwarves, Will, and Lovisa stared in shock; the rangers seemed to be more amused than anything. All this time, they had thought Rán to be male and yet…her breasts were clearly saying otherwise. Bofur especially felt rather irked by this, as he had tried to beat her into unconsciousness the previous night.

"You…you mean I was hittin' a woman?!" he gaped, shocked.

"You thought you were fighting a man, so what difference does it make?" She leaned forward, allowing Fifika to get the bruises on her back. "Not to mention, the lot of you are determined to bash in the skulls of the raiders –who are all women," she reminded them. "I wanted to be thought of as a male, just so you know. I see now that such a simple disguise has worked rather well."

Will, who was still staring at her in confusion, was the first to ask. "Why? I mean, if women are allowed t' fight and be rangers in Dorwinion, why would ya want t' be in disguise like this?" He rubbed his hands together; for some reason, they were starting to hurt. It wasn't a very strong pain –just a dull ache at the base of his fingers.

Rán glanced up at him, wincing as Fifika continued to cover her bruises in the strange paste. To her luck, the paste was quickly working to cool the bruises before numbing them. "It has nothing to do with fighting, but with family. Ashailyn and I were our parents' only children. They had no sons, so I, as the elder, was raised as a male. This is a…eh, a habit? Tradition? I am not sure of the word- a habit amongst those of our people without sons."

"An odd custom, that's for sure," Nori mused. He drank some water from his flask. "What good does it do?"

"How do you mean?"

"Well, from what you've said and from what we can see, women are on an equal standing in your lands while in ours, they're only slightly below men –they're usually not allowed t' fight," he continued. "So why the need for sons if everyone is equal with one another?"

"To carry on family name," Fifika replied. "Is always man's name taken at weddings. Woman's name holds no importance, no…eh…no honor unless have been raised as son like Rán." She glanced over at Kreine, who was shutting her jar of paste. Bofur's face was mostly covered by the stuff. "Rán not only female who act and dress like male. Are many others back home. In fact, have cousin who is being raised male. When time comes to be married, either marry other woman or combine names with husband to make new name."

Bifur scratched his beard as he contemplated her words. To him, it made sense; after all, a family would die out eventually if they didn't have very many males to carry on their name. Though, it was still odd to him that Rán had managed to fool them all. Then again, she was a half dwarf and, unlike Lovisa, seemed to bear more of her dwarvish side's appearance. She certainly wasn't a curvy female by any means –next to Lovisa, she could have been a twig which helped her to maintain masculine appearance.

He felt his cheeks growing a bit warm when he noticed that he had been unconsciously staring at Lovisa and he quickly glanced away, glad to see that she hadn't seemed to have noticed.

Nori's thoughts were elsewhere, however. He had allowed his mind to pay half of its attention to the rangers, but the rest of it was attempting to formulate a plan. The raiders that had taken Baylee, Ori, and Tyko had been riding wargs, but where did they keep said wargs? When he had been looking out over the city, he had seen no part of it that seemed fit for the habitation of monstrous wolves. Surely they would have some sort of special area where they would keep them…?

'Are they keeping them in the forest?' he wondered with a frown. Pulling out his pipe –which he always kept with him- he started to chew on the stem. He would have liked to put some tobacco in it and have a true smoke, but it would be folly in this environment. 'Or maybe they do keep them in the city, sort of like horses? Either way, I think I'll bring Lovisa with me when I go into the forest later. She's proven more than a little useful so far…' He glanced over at the woman, watching as she silently ate some breakfast. 'Not to mention, she's quite easy on the eyes with that golden skin and those golden eyes…'

He was suddenly nudged out of his thoughts by Bifur, who was giving him a stern look. "What?" he asked.

"Muzum gimlâ nâlâhinh," Bifur quietly scolded.

"I'm not staring at her," Nori retorted, his voice just as soft. "I'm thinkin' of a plan to get into the city that involves her help."

Bifur gave him a long look. "Uh-huh."

Nori frowned, feeling rather indignant at the moment. "It's the truth. I don't know where those raiders would keep their wargs, so it'd be nice t' have a hunter with me when I go into the forest just in case that's where they keep the beasts." It was only a half lie.

Bifur, however, remained unconvinced. Rolling his eyes and lightly shaking his head, he looked back to the others in the group. He knew Nori wouldn't take advantage of a woman, but he still felt a bit upset over his staring at Lovisa as if she were just another trinket to steal and sell later on. She deserved better than that sort of look; yes, she was extremely attractive, but she had more than proved herself to be a capable huntress who deeply cared for her friends. Nori shouldn't even be thinking about her in such demeaning ways.

"Look, if it's botherin' you that much," Nori suddenly told him, speaking in quiet Khuzdul, "you can come with. I don't entirely trust these rangers to listen to me, since they quite clearly know that I'm not one for followin' the law all of the time." He shoved his pipe back in his mouth, nibbling it again. "Anyway, Bofur an' Dwalin would be utterly useless. They make too much noise. Will, maybe, but he's a big lad and may get spotted."

Bifur nodded slowly. "We would know almost straight away if wargs lived down there," he told him. "They're not the cleanest of eaters and they leave rather big…Well, we would smell where they've been, to say the least. They're not subtle creatures by any means."

"Still, they can be sneaky creatures. Having you and Lovisa around while I try to find the best place to climb in would be helpful."

"Understandable. But know that if I catch you giving her that look again, I'll knock you upside the head without a moment's thought."

"Oh, don't you start acting like Dori now-"

"I'm not acting like Dori. I'm just warning you that if you try any of your shenanigans with Lovisa, you'll have me to answer to –and Will and Baylee, too, no doubt!"

Nori smirked. "You can't blame a dwarrow for wishin', Bifur. I mean, she's quite pleasant on the eyes. Even you must admit that."

"That's enough," he grumbled, cheeks red. He crossed his arms over his chest and sighed, looking away. "When are you heading for the forest?"

"In little under half an hour. I'll need all the daylight I can get to see which way is best for getting in there."

He nodded his understanding. "Alright. You should tell the others your plan so they don't think you're just deserting us."

Nori's brow rose. "My little brother is more than likely getting tortured inside those walls. I am not abandoning this quest."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Ori was, in fact, being tortured, but not in the way that Nori had envisioned. Instead of being flogged or prodded with red-hot irons, he was sitting on a bench with Damayanti sprawled over his lap while she ran her fingers through his hair and stroked his hairless chin. Sometimes, she would even leave playful kisses on his forehead, temples, and shoulders. It took all his willpower to keep from shuddering in disgust.

It wasn't yet noon, though the sun was already high in the sky and the air warm. Across from them sat Vlasta, Baylee, and Jacek while Motke and Dag lay in the grass, their hands behind their heads. Vlasta and Damayanti were conversing about this and that, though what those topics were, Baylee and Ori would more than likely never know, since they did not understand their language. Ori shifted slightly, doing his best to not grimace as the queen ran her hand down his spine. He knew that she was trying to elicit a 'pleased' reaction out of him; Dwalin would do the exact same caress, only with more pressure and some nail dragging. Damayanti could never match that feeling.

Damayanti seemed to notice the lack of response from him and sighed, playfully resting her chin against the top of his head and cradling him against her breasts. "Vlasta, are you positive you want to keep this one as servant?" she mischievously inquired, speaking in Westron. She glanced over at the raider. "I'm sure you can do with one less slave in your household, no?"

"Decision has been made, my queen," Vlasta replied, her tone bearing none of the playfulness or humor that Damayanti's had. She took a long drink from her cup of mint tea. "In fact, I have need for Ori to go to market today with Baylee and Motke."

"Is that so?" The queen's brow rose and she chuckled, sliding off of Ori's lap –much to his relief. "I hope it is to get this one some more jewelry," she told Vlasta as she walked behind Baylee. The younger woman stiffened slightly when Damayanti rested her chin on her shoulder. "She has such pretty facial features for one so young," she mused, trailing a finger down Baylee's jaw. Giving Vlasta a small look, she grinned. "Robe in silk and she will feel like a queen. Give her enough jewelry and she can look like one. Remember that, Vlasta." Tilting Baylee's head back, she smiled in an almost motherly fashion. "Would you like that? To feel and look like queen?"

Baylee felt her cheeks grow hot as she gulped. "I-I don't think I could ever look like a queen, my lady," she murmured.

Damayanti merely chuckled. "Ah, this one is too modest, isn't she?"

"That she is," Vlasta agreed, a bit of a smile coming to her lips. "But can still feel like queen, eh?"

At that, Baylee remained quiet, merely sipping her tea. She had a reply, but out of fear of bringing about Damayanti's wrath, she kept her mouth shut. To her dismay, both women took notice of this and grew curious.

"Do you not believe you can feel like queen?" Damayanti asked, returning to her seat on Ori.

She looked into her tea, cheeks fiery red by this point. She mumbled something, though the others couldn't hear it.

"What was that?" She plucked up Ori's hand, starting to fiddle with his fingers. She grew curious when she found that they lacked the hard, rough callouses that many dwarves had. In fact, his skin was positively silken. She wondered how they would feel running down her sides and back.

Swallowing hard, Baylee spoke a bit louder. "I said I could," she repeated, "but not because of silks or jewelry."

"Then how would you make self feel like queen, hm?" Damayanti leaned over, toying with Ori's hair again. She combed her fingers through it and started to leave little braids here and there.

Baylee bit her tongue, shifting uncomfortably. "I was always told that when I fight the right man t' love, he'd make me feel like a queen. Not with fancy gifts, but with his affection." She shrank back when Damayanti threw a sharp glare at her; Vlasta, however, cringed. The men, too, winced and gave her pitying looks.

Damayanti pulled back from Ori and crossed her legs, her brow rising once more. "Bah. And who told you that? A man, no doubt. Such a silly thing to say, no? Only a man can make a woman feel like a queen…"

Ori swallowed hard as he watched Baylee's brows furrow. "It was my mother who told me tha'," she boldly stated. "An' I believe her because my father made her feel like the queen o' Lake Town every day that they were together." She met the queen's gaze, her back unconsciously straightening, though it did little to make her seem intimidating.

For a long moment, the queen was silent. Then, she motioned at Baylee and commented on something about her to Vlasta, a sweet smile on her lips. Past the smile, though, Baylee could see the ire in her eyes. Vlasta muttered something, looking away from the group with a mixture of annoyance and regret on her face. A large smirk came to the queen's lips.

And that's when Baylee knew she was in trouble.

Damayanti called out and just a few minutes later, one of her personal guards came into the courtyard. Vlasta started to quickly argue with the queen, but was silenced when the queen rose to her feet and pointed a threatening finger at her. She pointed at Baylee and the guard –a woman whose appearance resembled that of an ox- grabbed Baylee's wrists.

"Wh-what're ya doing?" Baylee yelped, struggling. She was no match for the guard, who all-too-easily pinned her wrists down to the table. "Let go o' me!"

A whistle came from Vlasta's mouth and she pointed at Jacek. He jumped to his feet and ran off as Ori darted forward, trying to pry the guard off of Baylee. With a quick jab of her elbow, the guard sent him sprawling onto the ground with a bloodied nose. He looked up in time to see Damayanti drawing a short knife from the guard's belt; he tried to lunge forward again, but Motke held him back.

Baylee felt tears of fear rolling down her cheeks as she watched the knife get drawn. Vlasta moved behind her, trying to coax something –was it a belt? Or was it cloth?- into her mouth as she started to shake. Getting whatever it was into Baylee's mouth, Vlasta wrapped her arms around her shoulders, pinning her against the larger woman's chest. Damayanti reached down, forcing Baylee to uncurl her fingers, leaving her hands splayed out on the table.

'She's going to cut off my hands!' she thought, terrified. 'Oh Valar, help me…' Her eyes glanced over to Ori, who was trying to struggle against both Motke and Dag by now.

"Don't worry," Damayanti cooed in a sickly sweet voice, gently stroking her cheek. "This will only hurt for a few days."

Baylee screamed, but the sound was muted by whatever was in her mouth. The gods were not entirely on her side that day, but it was not her hands that were removed, but her right ring finger. A minute later, she screamed again as the queen stabbed the knife through her left ring finger as well. Her whole body shook as she watched the blood squirt out of the wounds, creating a small pool of blood on the table –and yet, it had only hurt when the knife first severed the digits. It was odd how she had felt nothing afterwards.

Fingers brushed against her damp cheeks and she looked up to find the queen standing near her, a tender look on her features but a sick pleasure in her eyes. "Don't worry, little one," she cooed, "you can still look a queen even with a concubine's brand." She quietly laughed before walking off, her guard following behind her.

Ori yanked free of the two men and rushed to his friend, pulling her into his arms; he didn't care that she was bleeding on him. Vlasta shouted towards the house as she knelt down, pulling the belt from Baylee's mouth and brushing her braids from her face. She shouted towards the house again, her voice sounding urgent.

"Why? Why did she do this?" Ori demanded, gently rocking Baylee.

"Because she is concubine," Vlasta grumbled. "Was not going to have branded, but…" She shook her head and stroked Baylee's back. "Told you to not talk back to queen…She is strict, cruel woman…"

Baylee glanced up at her, her skin pale. Behind Vlasta, she could see Jacek running towards them with Hezra in tow. The two of them hurried to Baylee's side and, with extra care, started to tend to her hands. At last, the pain was starting to fill her hands and mind, but she was determined to not let out another scream. Instead, she clenched her eyes shut and breathed deeply through her nose, all the while clenching her teeth.

Ori rubbed her arms as he watched Hezra pull some leaves from a bowl of water and use them to clean the blood from her hand and to clean the wounds. She then opened a small jar and, dabbing one of leaves into the liquid, placed it over the wound on Baylee's right hand. The other hand received the same treatment, earning small hisses of pain from the young woman.

"It'll be alright, Baylee," Ori murmured. "The pain will go away soon…"

She knew better. "I'm just glad it wasn't you," she mumbled. Opening her eyes, she watched as Hezra started to wrap her hands with bandages. Damayanti had severed the digits close to her palm, leaving barely a stump to be seen. "We could sew them back on…"

Vlasta shook her head. "No. Would get worse punishment for trying to fix branding. Keep these as is for now, eh?" She sighed, muttering something in her own tongue before rubbing her forehead. Setting her hand on Motke's shoulder, she quietly spoke in his ear before letting him stand up and leave. "Am sorry this had to happen," she told Baylee. "Wasn't going to have you branded, but…" She shook her head again.

Baylee said nothing as she rested her head against Ori's chest again, but silently, she wished that some sort of harm would befall Damayanti. Never before had she wished harm upon a person, but that woman….that woman had managed to stir up a sort of anger inside of her that she had never felt before. She hated the feeling and wanted it to go away, but knew that it wouldn't –it almost made her want to throw up.

"Will stay home from market," Vlasta sighed. "Ori and Motke can go on own."

She shook her head. "I'm fine; I can go. I just need a lil' bit o' rest."

"You just had two fingers cut off!" Dag argued. "You need to stay here."

"I said I'm fine!" she suddenly snapped. "I've lost more blood than this from a kitchen accident an' still worked the rest o' the day." She sighed. "Anyhow, the pain's goin' away thanks to these leaves. Just…Just give me an hour an' I'll be good as new, alright?" She managed to encouragingly smile at them. "An' sorry I snapped…I don't like it when people fret over me."

Ori didn't entirely believe her, but knew it would be better to not question it. Looking down at himself, he could see blood smeared across his chest. It had also gotten on Baylee's face and hair. "We'll need baths," he sighed, brushing some of the braids out of her face. "There's blood all over us."

She cringed. "I'm sorry…"

"More my fault than yours," he mused. "After all, I did kind of pull a Dori an' clutched you to me like you were a babe."

"Motke's readyin' you two a bath," Dag told them. "An' Jacek's gone off to find you some clothes."

Vlasta suddenly rose to her feet. "I need to go into town for bit," she told them. "Dag, are in charge, eh? Don't let anyone else in."

Dag nodded and bowed his head. "Yes, my lady."

Baylee watched the woman's retreating back; her head was hung forward and her shoulders slumped. That was not the look of a confident woman, but instead a defeated dog. 'She can't be that upset over this,' she thought. 'What's wrong with her…?'

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The forest seemed to be entirely devoid of life.

Lovisa couldn't tell if it was because they were so close to the city walls or if it was because the city had hunted every last creature for food. What she did know, however, was that the area they were currently in seemed to be the garbage dump. Bones, rotten food, ruined cloth, broken furniture, and all sorts of other things of disgusting origins covered the ground, forcing them to carefully pick their way along.

She could also tell that no wargs were in the forest. If there had been, they would have been gorging themselves with the plentiful food supply.

Nori, though, wasn't paying any attention to what was on the ground, but what was above it. He squinted, peering up through the tree limbs as he tried to find a good tree to climb. Many of the trees they passed by were either too short or too far away from the wall to meet his needs. Those that were suited for such didn't have any branches that were low enough for him to jump up and grab, even with a bit of a boost.

At last, after nearly half an hour of walking, he managed to find a tree that was both tall and close to the wall; he would need a bit of a lift to get into it, but that would be no troubleh. Motioning for Bifur to come forward, he grabbed onto a branch as he was hoisted up. He signed his thanks to the other dwarf before climbing up further into the tree, trying to keep as quiet as possible –a hard task when one was a dwarf. Luckily, though, Nori had long ago learned the art of stealth, giving him an advantage that only the rangers could match.

He had climbed nearly halfway up the tree when he stopped. Perching himself on a thick, sturdy branch, he cautiously moved a few smaller branches out of the way so that he could see down onto the wall. His brow rose, finding it all but empty.

'Do they trust that much in their secrecy?' he thought, craning his neck as he looked down each side of the battlements. 'Then again, it is a hidden city. Why worry about attacks coming from a mountain-encircled valley…?' He crawled forward a bit and did his best to look down past the wall, though he couldn't see much. 'I can get in from here…best let Bifur and Lovisa know, though.'

Scrambling his way back down, he remained on the lowest branch. "I've found a way in," he told the two of them, "so I'm going t' risk a small look around. It doesn't look like many people live in this part of the city anyway."

Lovisa frowned slightly. 'Positive will be safe?' she signed.

He thought for a moment; if he wanted safety, he would have stayed home. "Aye, it's safe," he lied to her. "Just in case, though, mark this tree an' if I'm not back in an hour's time, head back."

Bifur cocked his brow. 'Not know thief signs,' he signed. He wasn't going to risk his deep, loud voice in such a precarious situation.

"Just carve an 'N' into it. We'll know then."

The two of them nodded before watching Nori disappear into the tree again. Sighing, Bifur prodded at a cow carcass with the sharp end of his spear. It was fairly clean with only a few scraps of rotted flesh left clinging to the yellowed and browned bones. His nose scrunched up at the smell, but he had to admit that they were in the less smelly part of the garbage heap. Beside him, Lovisa was drawing out a knife and using it to carve into the tree's bark, though it was no letter she was carving into it.

'What doing?' he signed, his head tilted curiously.

She glanced over at him before stabbing the blade into the tree. 'Make look like bear marked tree,' she replied. 'Less noticeable than letter. More in-place.'

He nodded, watching as she continued to scratch at the bark. 'Said were nurse to Baylee, Will. Have known all life then?'

'Yes.' She smiled tiredly, though he couldn't see it. She had covered the lower half of her face with a scarf to help dampen the stench. 'Father was Warren's teacher. Knew Warren since came to Lake Town. He is good friend.'

Bifur cocked his head and leaned against the tree across from her. 'Warren not from Lake Town?'

Lovisa shook her head and leaned against the tree, cleaning her dagger of bark bits. 'No. Came over Misty Mountains. Wife came from Rohan, but that years later. He not age much since then. Wonder why?' A hoarse chuckle came from under the scarf. 'Love children, so became nurse when Baylee, Will born. Let Warren, Éolynna run inn without worry.' She tucked her bangs behind her ear. 'What your story?'

He shrugged. 'Not exciting,' he signed while chuckling. 'Born, raised in Ered Luin. Helped keep eye on Bofur, Bombur until got big. Learned to hunt.' He tapped the axe in his head. 'Got when orcs ambushed hunting camp.'

'Does it hurt?'

'Not much anymore. Headaches sometimes. Not notice most of time. Does hurt when little cousins try climbing on it…'

Another hoarse giggle came from Lovisa. 'Which one have little ones?'

'Bombur. Has eight!'

Her eyes widened. 'That a lot for dwarrow!'

He grinned and laughed. 'Aye. Three girls, five boys. Youngest born just two months.'

'Three girls! Boost to population!' She chuckled and shook her head. 'Sound like have exciting family.'

He shrugged, blushing slightly. 'Is good family. Kind, loving. What your family like?'

A bit of sadness came to her features, but her smile remained. 'Warren, Will, Baylee all I have.' She glanced at the wall and sighed. 'Would like to have husband, children. Not sure young enough anymore. So am going to fight to death to see Baylee, Ori home.'

A reassuring smile came to Bifur's lips and he leaned forward, patting her on the shoulder. 'They will get home, safe, sound. We make sure of it.'

Meanwhile, Nori was sneaking his way through an alleyway. He took great care to keep to the shadows and, with every step, he held onto any bit of his gear that could have possibly made a noise. At the end of the alley, he could see a small crowd of people walking about. His brow rose; were those men being led on leashes…? He shuddered.

Daring himself to go just a tad bit closer, he ducked behind some water barrels. For once in his life, he was thankful that his hair was not in its decorative star-points - that would have risked him getting caught. Poking his head out from behind one of the barrels, he watched as dozens of men and women –mostly women- strolled along the street.

'Seems to be their marketplace,' he thought. 'The women here are definitely in control…but, for a place housing raiders, they sure seem to have a…a normal society. I don't even see a single warg yet.' His eyes caught many glints of silver and gold in the mid-afternoon light, but he resisted all temptation to dart forward and begin pickpocketing. 'But why the leashes? Are the men their pets or something?'

As he scanned the area with his eyes, he spotted a sight that brought both relief and dismay to him: Across the market were Baylee and Ori; they were following behind a wide, muscular man and all three of them wore bejeweled collars. Ori looked unhurt, save for a large scab over his shoulder, but he could see bloodied bandages on Baylee's hand.

'Bofur and Will are not going to like that,' he thought, squinting. He couldn't tell what sort of wounds she had sustained due to her arms being crossed, but he knew she had lost some blood thanks to her paler-than-normal skin. 'But Ori looks fine. Ori looks healthy and good…' A sigh of relief left his mouth and he found himself smiling. 'Thank you, Mahal, for keeping him safe.'

He would never admit it, but he would give up all the gold in the world to make sure his little brother –or even Dori, for that matter- were safe.

'I don't see a third Dale-dweller, though,' he suddenly frowned. 'Did they kill Tyko?' He scrunched his nose up at the thought. 'If I could get close enough to them, I could risk asking them where he is, but there are three dozen people between me and them.'

Narrowing his eyes, he watched as the three of them disappeared beyond the corner. Gripping the edges of the barrel, he started to slowly move it across the alley, hoping that no one was paying him any attention. Lifting himself up against, he spotted them once more. The man was pulling up various pieces of jewelry and showing them to Baylee; it seemed that he was trying to get her to wear some, but she shook her head, disinterested in the charms.

'I'd be leaping at the opportunity,' he thought. A slight grin came to his lips as he watched Ori pluck up a few armbands, his eyes filling with want. 'Ah, little brother, you can't escape the longing for gold…'

The man nodded at Ori and motioned for him to put them on as he gently forced a silver armband around Baylee's bicep. She raised her hand so that she could better adjust it and Nori found himself cringing, now able to see what wound she had received.

'Why in Middle Earth would they cut off her ring fingers!?'

Shaking his head, he crawled away from the barrels, heading back the way he had come. He wanted to stay longer and tail the two of them, but knew it would be too dangerous. He had seen all that he had needed to, anyway. It didn't take him long to make it back to the wall and he found his luck continuing to hold –yet again, no one was around. Darting up the nearest flight of steps, he kept himself crouched low to the ground in case someone was to come by. About fifty paces later found him crawling onto a branch and into the safety of the trees.

"Well, I found Baylee and Ori," he grunted, jumping down from the lowest branch and startling Bifur and Lovisa. Standing up, he found them both pointing their weapons at him and he cocked his brow. "No idea where the third lad is, though." He couldn't care less that the two of them looked ready to stick him through; it was actually a bit reassuring that they hadn't fallen asleep or something of the sort.

Lovisa tucked her arrow back into her quiver. 'How are they? Are hurt?' she worriedly signed.

He shook his head. "Let's get out o' here before I tell anyone anythin', alright?"

Bifur and Lovisa glanced at each other; they didn't like the sound of that.

Half an hour later found them clear of the forest and its stench. Lovisa gladly breathed in the fresh air as she fanned her face; she had grown quite warm with the scarf covering her face. What did not help her to feel any cooler were her many layers of clothing. She knew the others from the north were suffering just as much –even Dwalin, who wore the least layers of everyone, was sweating quite profusely. Rán and her rangers, however, seemed to be handling the heat just fine.

"Well? Did yeh get in the city?" Dwalin asked as they sat down.

"Aye, an' I caught sight of Baylee and Ori. No sign of Tyko, though."

Will, Bofur, and Dwalin lurched forward, their eyes wide. Behind them, Nori caught sight of Rán; her eyes had widened as well, though she kept herself reserved. "What of them?" she asked.

"For the most part, they seem to be fine. Ori has a scabbed over wound on his shoulder." He thanked Girish as he handed the dwarf a flask of water.

"What about Baylee?" Will demanded. He swallowed hard, noticing that Nori wasn't meeting his gaze.

Sighing, Nori wiped his mouth and corked the flask again. "She had bandages on her hands…from what I could see, they cut off her ring fingers."

Bofur and Will burst into a fit of loud swearing, only calming down when Lovisa threw them a scolding look. Rán shook her head, rubbing her forehead.

"Then they do come from over the mountains," she murmured.

"What d'ya mean?" Bofur demanded.

Rán glared at him before looking at Will instead; she gave him a kinder look. "In the east –where they prefer to worship the Evil Ones rather than the Valar- they had a…a custom, did you call it? of cutting off the third fingers of their slaves. It reminds them that they are nothing more than belongings and are not even allowed to marry."

"My sister is not someone's property!" Will snarled, his fists clenching. "She is a free woman o' Dale. She belongs to no one!" The group knew he was not speaking to them, but his rage made even Dwalin scoot away from him.

Nori rubbed the back of his neck, sighing. "When we go back tonight," he quietly began, "I'll bring more o' you in. There were no guards at all around the wall. I think we can risk maybe four of us." He glanced at his companions from Dale. "You'll understand if I want t' only bring in the rangers, aye? They're the quietest and the stealthiest." His eyes darted back to Rán. "This is where you come into play, Rán. No doubt, you'll come with, so who are your two best?"

Rán thought for a moment, tapping her chin in thought. "Seth and Kreine are the quietest," she told him. "If I were to go with you, then who would be in charge of the others?"

Nori nodded at Dwalin. "He's the most seasoned warrior out o' all of us. If anything were to happen, he would know what to do."

Dwalin glanced over at Nori as he used one of his knives to clean the dirt from under his nails. "Aye, I would. An' I'd at least keep my head cool when the rest o' the group is rearin' t' slice open some bodies." He looked back down at his nails. "Think yeh should take Will or Bofur with yeh, though."

"Why do you think that?" Rán inquired.

"Familiar faces. If it were one o' yeh rangers who found Baylee an' Ori again, they may not remember yeh and think yer tryin' t' kidnap them all over again. But if yeh had someone familiar with yeh, like Will or Bofur, they'd be more relaxed."

Bofur shook his head. "Neither Will or me are the sneaky sort," he told him.

"Not to mention, I'm just too big," Will added. "I already tower above all o' you." It was true; he was at least a head taller than Hunil, who was the tallest ranger.

"Then we will take Bofur," Rán mused. She ignored the confused looks from the group. "Master Dwalin is right –if we were to find them, they would be calmer if someone else they knew were to be with us. Not that we will be traveling in a group, of course. Some of us will need to scout out the area for Tyko and for disguises." She looked at Bofur, who was staring at her in shock. "He is not properly dressed for sneaking around, but Nakara and Ashailyn can help with that." She smirked.

Nori nodded, ignoring the somewhat terrified look on Bofur's face. "Then when it nears sundown, we'll get ready. It's not a long walk to where I crossed over the wall."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Ori had never seen a more beautiful sunset. There were so many different shades of red, yellow, pink, and orange filling the sky that he was finding it hard to not stare at the mountains like an idiot. He was utterly amazed by how the colors blended together so seamlessly with one another and how they eventually faded into the eastern sky's lavenders, violets, and indigos. Because of this beautiful distraction, his dinner quickly grew cold. Jacek nudged him, once more bringing his attention back to the real world.

"Are alright?" he asked, looking at the dwarf with concern. Vlasta had yet to return, leaving the concubines to dine out in the garden for the night. Dag had given Ori the order to eat with them so that Baylee wouldn't feel so alienated. "Keep staring at mountains…"

"Er…" His cheeks blazed red with embarrassment. "It's just a really pretty sight is all," he told him.

Motke and Baylee turned around in their seats so that they could look up at the sky. Dag chuckled, nodding his agreement. "The sunrises are better," he told him. He nodded out towards the ocean, which was visible over the low, stone wall of the garden. "Rises right out o' the water there, like magic."

Ori quietly sighed, plopping his chin on his fist. "Wish I had my painting supplies with me," he murmured, poking at his food. "Not that I could do such a sight any justice. I'm not too good with colors just yet."

Baylee piled some more meat onto his plate. "You did a gorgeous job on the sign for Bofur an' Bifur," she told him. "Now eat. Ya didn't get a lunch, so ya need t' make up for that."

He copied her action, though he gave her more of the strange vegetables. "You lost a lot o' blood today and didn't get a lunch either, so you need to make up for that as well."

Jacek laughed at their exchange and shook his head. "Act like little married couple," he grinned, patting Ori on the head. "Is good to see, though. Is hard to make such friendships." Lifting his veil, he took a long drink from a silver goblet.

"Why do ya have t' wear those veils?" Baylee asked, filling her fork with a mixture of rice and vegetables. She popped it into her mouth, chewing slowly. It was good food, she had to admit, but the flavors were still strange to her.

"It's the rules," Dag answered. Grabbing a bottle, he uncorked it and refilled Jacek's goblet. Peeking into the other goblets, he topped off whatever ones needed it. "The women fear we may seduce them with our handsomeness, so we need t' keep our nose an' jaws covered. Drink some o' your wine."

She shook her head as she chewed her food. "I need t' eat more before I have any sort o' alcohol. Also, that's silly. Most women aren't lured in by pretty faces…"

"Agree, but not want noses chopped off." Motke chuckled, serving himself some more rice. "So, are lightweight drinker then?" She blushed and nodded. "Don't worry –Dag is, too. Can hardly have two goblets before is wobbling about like child." He popped a bit of lamb into his mouth before drinking some of the wine. "So, how are liking jewelry? Used to weight yet?"

Baylee glanced at all the gold and silver that covered her upper arms and wrists. "Not entirely," she admitted. What felt heaviest were her ears; the people of this city did not wear simple earrings. Instead, they wore large, dangling earrings that had ornately decorated hoops and chains on them. "I still don't like any o' it."

"Will get used to it," Motke assured her. "No doubt Vlasta will want to get more for you as apology for fingers."

A quiet sigh left her mouth as she looked down at her hands. The anger she had felt towards the queen started to return as she stared at the bloodied bandages; by now, there was only a dull throb. "Why did Damayanti even cut them off?" she demanded, going back to eating her food. She didn't want to get upset –not over dinner. "There was talk about some sort o' branding, I know, but what's the point of it?"

"It prevents us from gettin' married and acts as a constant reminder that we're not people –just toys," Dag told her. He and the other concubines held up their hands, showing that they, too, were missing their ring fingers. "At least, they'd like t' think it keeps us from gettin' married. Marriage isn't about wearin' silly rings." He cut a piece of meat before eating it.

"Marriage about love," Jacek sighed, resting his chin in his palm, "and family and being together…" He closed his eyes for a moment, the fingers of his free hand resting on the stem of his goblet. Ori frowned, able to see the sorrow on his mostly-hidden features.

"You were married," he unconsciously murmured.

Jacek nodded. "Was taken from home nearly six years ago, when raiders still lived in foot of Eastern Mountains." A sad smile came to his lips. "Have been treated well, though. You two," he pointed at Baylee and Ori, "will be treated well. Like us. Vlasta is kind, unlike Damayanti."

"So long as Damayanti stays away from here, I'll believe that," Baylee muttered. She unconsciously stabbed her fork into her lamb, quietly growling.

The three male concubines exchange knowing looks. Unlike the newcomers, they knew that Damayanti frequently visited Vlasta –and, now that she had expressed an immense infatuation with Ori, those visits would more than likely increase. Instead of saying anything, though, they continued to eat their meal.

Later that night, when the moon was high in the sky, Baylee was tossing and turning in her bed. There was a strange sense of impatience filling her, though she didn't know why; there was nothing for her to be excited over. It didn't help that the ache in her hands had grown stronger after dinner, when her bandages had been changed. Holding her hands up, she swallowed hard.

'I suppose I'll find out just how much I use those fingers in the coming days,' she told herself as she rubbed her face.

Rolling over yet again, she looked out of the window towards the stars. They were different here, but just as beautiful as they had been back home. A longing smile came to her lips and she pushed herself upright. Slipping out of her bed, she left her room, being as quiet as she could. As she came to the bottom of a flight of stairs, she could see a warm glow coming from the kitchen and could hear hushed voices behind the door.

'Sounds like Vlasta finally made it home,' she thought, tiptoeing past. Coming to the end of the hall, she slowly turned the door handle, holding her breath as she waited to see if it would squeak. She released the breath only when the door opened soundlessly, allowing her to step outside into the night.

Closing the door behind her, she made her way across the garden towards the low wall. With a small hop, she was sitting atop the stones and looking out towards the ocean. She tucked a braid behind her ear before pulling her knees to her chest, resting her chin atop them. Part of her wanted to risk slipping over the wall and past the few houses that lay in between Vlasta's home and the beach so that could run and play in the surf, but her more sensible side kept her grounded.

'What if Vlasta were to come looking for you, hmm?' she scolded herself. 'If she didn't find you in your bed or out here, she would surely get angry. And then you may lose more than just fingers, no matter what Dag and Motke say…'

"Couldn't sleep?"

Baylee was just barely able to keep herself from yelping as she looked over her shoulder. Ori was walking towards her, tiredly rubbing his eyes. "What are ya doin' up?" she quietly asked him.

"Got up t' use the privy," he told her, "and to check on you. When I saw that you weren't in bed, I could only assume you were down here." He leaned against the wall. "Was it your hands?"

She shook her head. "No…Well, sort o', but I just have a weird feelin' in my stomach."

"Is dinner not agreein' with you? Because it didn't quite agree much with me. I think it was the vegetables; there was something about them that just didn't settle well."

A quiet laugh left her mouth. "No, I don't think that's it. I just feel…excited? Nervous? Sort o' a mix between the two, I guess. I don't know why. So I thought some air would help calm me down a bit." Her chin rested atop her knees again.

"Could be the wine. You did have a full two goblets of it, after all," he gently teased. He grinned as she lightly shoved him.

"It wasn't the wine," she chuckled. "If anything, it's just left over nerves from…" She winced and held up her hand.

He sighed, tilting his head back. "I wish we could have sewn them back on…It's not like we're goin' to stay here forever like the others. We know our friends will come for us." He covered his mouth as he yawned.

She glanced down at him. "Aye. They'd tear the mountains down t' find us," she murmured, tracing the grooves between the rocks, feeling weather-worn grout between them. A small smile came to her lips. "An' if not that, then they'd dig right through it."

Ori smiled, though he didn't look up at her. "I'm sure they would," he told her. He gently nudged her. "Bofur would do most o' the digging, don't you think? Using that mattock of his."

Baylee blushed and giggled. "An' Dwalin would be hewing through it with his axes, no doubt."

"Ah, but you'd be more focused on Bofur." Teasingly winking at her, he glanced away and crossed his arms over his chest. Despite his words -and Ori would never admit it to Baylee- he was beginning to lose hope. He knew their friends were determined enough and would fight to the death for them, but dwarves were all but useless when it came to navigating strange forests –and this forest had been hard enough for the raiders to maneuver through. 'And that's not even bringing in the fact that this is an entire city, not just a simple raiding camp,' he thought. 'They wouldn't be able to get through…'

Sliding off the wall, Baylee gave Ori a tight hug. "You should get back t' bed," she told him, her voice muffled by his hair. "You're exhausted."

Returning the hug, he sighed. "You should get back there, too. I don't even know how you're still able t' walk after all that's happened lately."

She gave him a small smile. "I'll be fine. I've survived worse situations before. Now go –I'll head inside in a few minutes."

"You had better, or else I'm comin' back out here an' carrying you in," he mildly threatened. Smiling as she laughed, he patted her arm and started to walk off.

Watching him leave the garden, Baylee slid down the wall, her eyes closing as her rump hit the ground. 'I really should sleep,' she thought, 'but this feeling in my stomach just won't go away.' Rubbing her stomach, she scrunched her nose up; the rubbing did little to help and only reminded her of the ugly scars on her skin. 'This outfit seems to glorify the fact I've got battle scars…'

Out of nowhere, she heard a loud grunt and then something falling into the bushes near her. Eyes snapping open, she pressed herself against the wall, hoping that the shadow it cast was enough to keep her hidden from whatever had come into the garden.

'Oh Valar don't let it be a warg,' she thought, biting down on her tongue.

Across from her, the bushes continued to rustle and she pressed herself further against the wall as she tried to curl up into an unnoticeable ball. She wished she had her spear, though it would probably do her little good. Swallowing hard, her eyes widened as whatever it was came crawling out of the bushes.

It was not a warg.

It was a dwarf.

At the moment, she couldn't tell if she knew this dwarf or not –there were no instantly recognizable features about him. That is, until he spoke.

"You could have been more gentle about tha'!" he hissed into the bushes.

Her eyes shot open. "B-Bofur…?"

He stiffened before slowly turning around. In the moonlight, she could see that it was, indeed, Bofur, only without his signature pigtails and hat. He was clad in dark colors, letting him blend into the night. Swallowing hard, Baylee darted forward and threw her arms around his neck.

"Oh bless me, it is you!" she shakily whispered, ignoring the pain in her hands as she clutched onto him.

Bofur was more than a little shocked; he and Rán were both just about ready to give up hope when they had come across this house. As she clung onto him, he wrapped his arms around her in a protective hug, one of his hands cupping the back of her head.

"Oh thank Mahal we finally found you," he quietly uttered. "Thank Mahal…"

"I've missed ya so much," she murmured, tears starting to sting her eyes. "All o' ya. Ori an' I keep hopin' you'll come burstin' in an' save us but then…" She shook her head, sniffling.

"Shh…there, there. I'm here, lass. I'm here." He comfortingly stroked her hair. "I've missed ya, too," he quietly told her. "We've missed ya both."

She shut her eyes, smiling. For the first time in who-knows-how-long, she felt safe. "Are ya goin' t' get us out o' here?"

"Soon. Soon, I promise. We can't just yet, though. We still need t' find Tyko an' make a real plan."

She nodded and swallowed hard, trying to calm herself. "I understand," she murmured. Pulling back slightly, she set her hand on his cheek, looking him over. Despite the relief on his features, he looked utterly exhausted. "How many o' you are there?" she asked, her thumb gently stroking his bruised skin. 'How did he get all those bruises?' she thought.

"Fifteen o' us, but five o' us are in the city," he answered, unconsciously leaning into her touch. After a moment, though, he took her hands in his, swallowing hard as he saw the missing fingers. "Nori said ya got fingers cut off, but I didn't believe him…" His thumbs stroked her palms, being as gentle as he could.

She frowned, confused. "How did he know…?"

"He snuck into the city earlier an' saw you an' Ori." Cupping her hands in his, he let out a heavy sigh and glanced away, seemingly ashamed. "I'm sorry we didn't get here earlier. We could o' stopped this."

Baylee lightly shook her head, slipping her hands out from his only to cover his hands with her own. "Don't think it's your fault this happened," she told him. "I couldn't keep my mouth shut. I…I upset someone. It's not your fault." She wrapped her arms around him again.

As he hugged her a second time, Bofur rested his hands on her back only to find it almost entirely bare. His cheeks turning deep red, he swallowed hard and pulled back, looking her over. "What sort o' clothes are these supposed t' be!? You're barely wearin' anythin'!"

Her cheeks also flushed red. "I know…Poor Ori's in less –he's just got a skirt, but from what he said, it's almost like normal summer clothin' for dwarves?" She shook her head. "Apparently, this is rather coverin' for what I'm supposed t' be…"

He frowned. "An' just what is that supposed t' be?"

She bit her tongue, looking away. "A…A concubine." She felt Bofur stiffen and winced.

Shaking his head, he set his hand on her cheek; normally, he would have found himself amused by how his palm seemed to cover her entire cheek, but now he was just upset. "We'll get ya two out o' here soon enough, lass," he told her. "I promise."

Setting her hand over his, she managed a small smile. "I know ya will."

Bofur badly wanted to kiss her, but he knew better. 'She's too scared and hurt for me to do that right now,' he thought. 'When this is all over…maybe while we're heading back to Dale. Give her some time to recover-'

"Bofur, what is taking you –oh…"

Baylee looked up and Bofur turned around as Rán came out of the bushes. She stared at the two in wonder before managing a relieved smile. "Lady Baylee," she finally spoke. "I was not expecting you here…" Part of her wanted to leap forward and yank Bofur away from her, but the rest of her was just glad to see Baylee alive and well.

Baylee smiled in return, glancing down at Bofur. "You didn't tell me Rán an' his men were here."

He shifted slightly, glancing over his shoulder at the ranger. "Well, it's why there are fourteen o' us," he murmured. "An'…it's a bit o' a long story, but Rán is actually a woman."

Her head cocked to the side as she looked at the ranger. "But…beard…" she mumbled, stroking her chin for unconscious emphasis. "Well, stubble, but still. Beard…"

"I am a half dwarf, remember," Rán snickered. To her, Baylee's reaction was somewhat adorable. "But that is not important right now." She walked over to Baylee and set her hand on the woman's shoulder. "Do you think that you and Ori could hold out for a few more days?"

"Aye, so long as the queen stays away."

"They have a queen?" Bofur asked, brows furrowing.

She nodded. "She was the one who cut off my fingers," she sighed. "She keeps touchin' an' flirtin' Ori even though it's obvious he's uncomfortable with it, but she just finds it humorous an' keeps doin' it." She swallowed hard and bit her tongue. "I just want t' shove her away from him…Even punch her. She makes me feel so angry…I've never hated someone so much before I met her."

Rán frowned and reached behind her, fumbling with her belt. "That is discomforting information," she admitted. "Has the same happened to you?"

"No. Everyone seems t' flirt with Ori more 'n me."

"Good!" Bofur suddenly said. "Er, I mean, well…It's good they're not tryin' the same stuff with you…With your hands hurt like tha', you're not able t' defend yourself too well."

"At least now, she will have this." Rán held out a sheathed dagger to Baylee. "Keep this on you at all times, Lady Baylee. I hope you will not be forced into using it, but if the need arises…" Carefully, she placed it in Baylee's hand. "We need to depart now," she murmured, unconsciously letting her hands linger on Baylee's. "The others are expecting us back at the wall."

Baylee nodded slowly, her fingers curling around the sheath. "Be safe," she told them.

"We will," Rán assured her, smiling. She risked giving the woman a hug before stepping back, allowing Bofur to also hug her. Jealousy filled her mind when she saw that his hug lingered. 'Ignore it,' she told herself. 'Now isn't the time to get in another fight.'

"We'll be back soon," Bofur murmured, giving Baylee an extra squeeze. Rising on his tiptoes, he dared to kiss her forehead. "Stay safe." Before she could reply, he and Rán darted over the wall and hurried off.

Baylee swallowed hard, finding herself more than a little tempted to race after them, but she knew better. It would be too dangerous…and who would be here to protect Ori? Not that she was doing a very good job of it; Damayanti had been all over him. Next time, she could perhaps manage to be a bit more courageous around the queen.

Looking down at the dagger, she bit her tongue. Where was she supposed to hide this? Her clothing didn't provide nearly enough cover to hide it…

"Baylee?"

She quickly shoved the knife down the back of her trousers and turned around, seeing Vlasta walking towards her. "Y-yes?"

"Why are out here? Should be sleeping, eh?" Her brow rose and she crossed her arms, looking down at the smaller woman. Her eyes were red and her cheeks damp.

"I couldn't sleep, so I came out here t' get some air." She rubbed her arm, glancing away. "But I'm startin' t' feel tired, so I think I'll just head back in now…" As she started to walk back towards the house, Vlasta stopped her.

"Have been crying." Cupping Baylee's chin, she forced the younger woman to look at her. Her thumb wiped away one of the remaining tears. "Why?" Baylee could see that there was a fresh bruise around her right eye.

Gulping, Baylee tried to think of an excuse. "Be…because the ocean makes me think o' my childhood home," she partially lied. "I grew up on a lake. It makes me think o' my family an' my friends back home. I miss 'em." She added a small sniffle to make the lie more convincing.

Vlasta patted her on the back. "Will get used to it," she assured her. Then, crouching down, she scooped Baylee up into her arms and started to carry her back towards the house. "Stop struggling; am taking you back to room is all. No need to be scared, eh?"

"I-I can walk…"

"Is more fun to carry you, remember?"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Nori had his arms full of women's clothing.

It wasn't the first time they had been full of woman's clothing, but it was certainly the first time that there hadn't been any nude females around. He almost felt disappointed by this, but quickly reminded himself that this was to save his brother.

Not for a night of pleasure.

Shifting the bundle of clothes, Nori sighed as he crept down an alleyway. He nearly dropped them when, out of nowhere, a wailing noise filled the air. Out of instinct, he pressed himself against the wall –just in time to watch a door open up some yards away. The wailing grew louder and he could hear some yelling and snarling behind it. A woman stepped into the night, holding a box.

'Is she punishing a child by tossing out their toys?' he thought. He remembered how his own mother had done the very same thing when he was a child. Squinting, he watched as she plopped the box onto the ground. Suddenly, he clapped his hand over his mouth in an attempt to keep himself from cursing as he saw a pair of tiny arms reach out of the box towards the woman. She snarled at it and slammed the door shut. 'Oh blessed Mahal she threw out a baby?! Who in their right mind would do such a thing!?'

It was hard to make Nori feel appalled –after all, as a 'reformed' thief, he had seen quite a lot of horrible things in his life. Nothing he had seen before, however, could have prepared him for witnessing a person tossing a baby out into an alley in the middle of the night. Nothing.

He crept towards the box, daring to set his bundle of clothing down. The baby continued to cry, though it was a bit quieter now and full of hiccups. Swallowing hard, Nori glanced around to make absolutely sure no one was around before he reached in and lifted the child into his arms. The baby calmed slightly, though it still sobbed and hiccupped.

"Shh," he quietly cooed, trying to remember what all Dori had taught him when Ori was just a babe. "It's alright, little one. I'm not going to hurt you." He was careful to make sure that he kept most of the support under its head. Judging by its size, it was a human's baby, though it seemed a bit underfed. "You're a little human, aren't you? You're bigger than a dwarrowling."

The crying slowly ceased, but the hiccups persisted. Nori cradled the child against his shoulder, lightly bouncing it as he tried to think of what to do with it. 'I can't leave it here. Not after that. It wouldn't survive its first year,' he thought with a frown. He felt a tug on his beard and looked down, finding the child curiously playing with the braided whiskers. 'But if I bring it with me, it could blow our cover…'

He flinched as he heard some more yelling from inside the house. Multiple people seemed to be screaming at one another and then there was the sound of shattering glass or porcelain. Narrowing his eyes, Nori made up his mind. Setting the child back in the box, he grabbed one of the stolen robes and started to wrap it around himself.

"It's alright, lil' one," he whispered when the baby started to fuss again. "I'm not leavin' you here. You're safe now." Fashioning a sling out of the material, he carefully put the child in the sling before gathering up the other clothes. With a heavy sigh, he hurried down the alley and back towards the wall.

'Dori is going to kill me twice over now…'


	19. Chapter 19

"This is crazy, Nori –yeh don't even know the first thing 'bout takin' care o' babies!"

"Oh, that's a poor lie and you know it! If I didn't know how t' care for a child, then why's Ori still around?"

"Because Dori was overprotective an' didn't leave yeh alone with 'im for a minute." Dwalin crossed his arms as he stared down at Nori as he did his best to feed the child some mashed up berries. "Children take a lot o' work –work tha' yeh don't like puttin' the effort into!"

Nori rolled his eyes as he continued to feed the child. "What was I supposed to do, Dwalin? Leave him there to die? I may be a rogue, but I'm not evil." He looked back down at the child. "Alright, little one…it's time you start eatin' and stop playin', alright?"

The child –who Nori was calling 'Zori' for now- seemed to be more interested by Nori's braided beard. Even when Nori spooned the berry mash into his mouth, he'd merely blow raspberries and reach for his beard, tugging it and toying with it.

Dwalin shook his head. "I would'a left him outside someone else's door step," he mumbled. "Let him be their problem."

Nori threw a small glare up at him, but said nothing.

Will rubbed his forehead. "I'm just glad that we know where the three o' them are now," he murmured. "Granted, my sister's missin' some bits, but at least she seems t' be doin' well."

Bofur patted him on the back. "She's doin' better than what most o' us would be if we were in her an' Ori's predicament." He glanced over at Seth. "What about Tyko, though? What was his situation?"

Seth scratched the side of his neck. "Is in city's center. Will be hard getting him out; building is big and has so few rooms, but many occupants. Ehh…Seems to have become favorite concubine."

Bifur's brows furrowed. "Kuf anâk tada?"

"He wants t' know why you say that," Bofur translated before taking a drink from a flask. He glanced over at the horses, feeling a bit of pity for them. The grass in the area was not the soft, supple green grass that they had gotten to eat out in the fields, but a hard, wiry grass that was used to harsh climates.

"When spotted him," Seth replied, "was eh…having grand time with woman." He chuckled, shaking his head. "So could not talk to him. Managed to get layout of house, though."

Rán glanced up from her bedroll. "Good. Can you draw it?" she tiredly asked. Seth nodded. "Good. Also draw out its location relative to the wall, will you?" She rested her head back down on the ground, her eyes closing. "Bofur, do you remember the way to Baylee and Ori's location?"

He scratched the top of his head. "Er, a little bit."

"When Seth finishes, add in their location," she yawned. "We can start coming up with a proper plan when that is done." Unlike the others who went out the previous night, she hadn't gotten much in the way of sleep. She winced as Zori started to whine and snuck her hands over her ears.

"Uh-oh," Nori murmured. "What do you want, lil' one?" He started to lightly bounce the child on his knee but it was to no avail. Zori only started to whine more, his little hands curled into fists. "I fed you, so are you thirsty?" He tried to offer the child some water, but Zori turned his head away, letting out a small wail.

Lovisa hopped up from her spot and took Zori from Nori. Cradling him against her shoulder, she quietly cooed to him and patted his back. The action seemed to calm him a down a bit, bringing a smile to her lips –that is, until she smelled something quite disgusting. Her brow rising, she pulled back the cloth of Zori's diaper, peeking down it. Will snickered when she stuck her tongue out and glanced away in disgust.

"That bad, huh?" he asked.

Giving him a small glare, she nodded. Then, turning to Nori, she started to sign at him. 'Not happen to steal diapers?'

He grimaced. "No…"

She rolled her eyes and, grabbing Nori's hand, dragged him towards the nearby stream. As they left, Zori let out a rather large burp for a baby his size, earning a small cheer from the dwarves and some laughter from the rangers. A large, oblivious smile came to his face; he was just glad that the bubble hurting his tummy was gone.

Lovisa knelt down beside the stream and, using her teeth to tug off her glove, checked how warm it was. To her luck, it was quite warm thanks to being exposed to the sun most of the day. Nori watched as she made quick work of removing Zori's diaper, the sight and smell of which managed to make even him gag.

"Oh, Mahal, that is disgusting," he cringed, waving his hand in front of his nose.

She glanced up at him before holding up the child. Zori seemed to be in much better spirits now that his bottom was free of the stinky diaper and he reached out for Nori. Hesitantly, Nori took him and hopped across the stream, knowing she had meant for him to bath him. As he, too, knelt down, he watched as Lovisa shook her head and began the rather nasty process of washing the dirty diaper.

'Need boil water,' she signed to him after a few minutes.

"What for?" He was dangling Zori's lower half in the water, letting the current wash away any poo that was clinging to his bum.

'Wash diaper.'

"But you're washing it right now…?" He raised his brow, wiggling Zori slightly when he noticed that some of the poo was refusing to come off. Zori giggled, his little hands trying to reach down into the water so he could splash or grab a rock. Admitting defeat, Nori set the child down on the ground before ungloving his hands and moving to scrub away the rest of the poo.

'Need to boil. Stench go away. Stain sort of go away. Just cleaner to boil.' She found herself a bit surprised by how gentle Nori was being. 'Will need more diapers.'

He sighed. "I'll try and steal some tonight," he told her as Zori splashed his hands in the water, giggling. "After I boil my hands…"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Ori lightly shook Baylee, a frown on his features. "Baylee, it's past noon –you've got t' get up!"

She tiredly opened her eyes only to shut them against the midday light. Groaning, she pulled her blanket over her head. "Not now, Ori…"

"It's past noon, Baylee. We're worried about you!" Grabbing the foot of the blanket, he yanked it off of her, his brow rising as she curled into a small ball. "While I'm glad you're sleeping well, you need to get up." He watched as her eyes suddenly snapped open and she bolted upright. "Yes, noon, now come-" He faltered and smacked his hand over his eyes; during the night, Baylee's top had managed to skew itself. "You…may want to adjust your top…"

Glancing down, she squeaked and started to adjust the triangles of cloth back over her breasts. Her cheeks burned with embarrassment. "Sorry…"

"Not your fault," he assured her. "How're your hands this morning?"

"Sore. Very sore." She frowned, feeling something jabbing into the bottom of her spine. Cocking a brow, she reached back and gasped as she felt the dagger hilt.

Ori frowned behind his hand. "What? What's wrong?" Peeking from between his fingers, he saw that she had covered herself again and was feeling along her back.

"Ori…Last night, I saw Bofur an' Rán." Her voice was quiet, but it was full of wonder, as if she didn't entirely believe her words.

He froze. "What?" Moving his hands away from his face, he watched as she drew a sheathed dagger from behind her. He swallowed hard, his eyes widening. "Baylee…where did you get that?"

"Rán gave it to me," she murmured, staring at the knife. She looked up at him. "I was out by the wall an' then Bofur just fell out o' the bushes an' trees, like he was some sort o' fruit."

"Well, he can be that," Ori murmured before quickly shaking his head. "But Rán was there, too?" he asked, brows knitted together. How in the world did Bofur get here?

She nodded. "Aye, he –no…no, Rán is a woman. That's right." Dropping the knife onto her lap, she rubbed her forehead. "But, aye! Rán an' her rangers are here with Bofur and the others." A hopeful smile appeared on her features. "We're goin' t' get saved."

The realization came slowly to Ori. He stared at her in shock, the news slowly, but surely, bringing a smile to his lips. When he finally entirely understood what Baylee had told him, he leapt forward onto the bed and hugged her tightly. They toppled backwards onto her pillows, laughing.

"Did he say when?" he asked, voice muffled by her shoulder.

"No, but he promised it'd be soon. Lad, you're kind o' crushin' me a wee bit."

Pushing himself upright, he gave her an apologetic smile. "Sorry. That's just…the best news I heard all day."

"I would hope it's the only news you've heard," she mused, her brow rising as she glanced up at him.

He rubbed the back of his neck and glanced away. "Not…really."

Baylee sat up, bringing her knees up. "Alright. What did ya hear?" she asked, frowning. "An' be honest."

"Damayanti is going to be coming over later today."

She froze. "What?"

Ori nodded and glanced away. "From what Jacek, Motke, an' Dag say, Vlasta is sort o' like the queen's confidant and lover, so Damayanti comes over here quite a bit."

Baylee clenched her teeth. "She had best stay away from you," she grumbled, crossing her arms.

Ori gave her a reassuring smile. "It's alright, Baylee. I know how t' handle myself."

"I know ya do, Ori, it's just…" Sighing, she rubbed the back of her neck. "Nori asked me t' watch over you an' I'm tryin' my best to do that."

"Nori…asked you to watch over me?"

She nodded. "Aye, he did. Though, I'm not doin' too good o' a job if I've let ya lose your beard an' get all felt up by some pathetic excuse for a queen." Lying back against the headboard, she plucked up the knife and drew it out of the sheath. She recognized it as dwarven make. 'One of the blades she got from Erebor, no doubt,' she thought.

"But it's not your fault any o' that happened. You weren't around when they pinned me down an' shaved my beard, nor could you really stand up t' a queen without severe –well, more severe- consequences taking place," he told her. "I don't blame you in the least an' I doubt Nori will blame you, either."

"I don't care 'bout the repercussions," she suddenly snapped. "If she touches ya like that again, I'll cut her fingers off!"

Ori swallowed hard, leaning away from Baylee –not because of her tone, but because she was pointing the knife at him. Despite how innocent she had looked a moment ago, he found her to be quite terrifying when she was angry and holding a knife. Realizing she still held the knife, Baylee sheathed it and sighed, rubbing her face.

"I'm sorry," she murmured. "She just…Let's put it this way: I want t' cut off her fingers an' I have never, ever wanted t' hurt a person before in my life." Hearing a knock on her door, she sat upright, tucking the knife back under the waistband of her trousers. "Come in."

Motke opened the door and poked his head into the room. "Ah, are awake!" he smiled, stepping in. "Was wondering if would never wake. Since have missed morning meal, midday almost ready!" He stood with his hands on his hips, a broad smile on his lips. "But first, need bandages changed. Vlasta's orders. Not want hands to get eh…"

"Infected?" Ori offered.

"Yeah! Infected," he grinned. "Thank-you. Now come! Let's get bandages changed, yeah?" Walking over to Baylee, he helped tug her out of the bed before leading her out of the room. Ori followed on their heels, allowing himself to steal just a glance at her bum to make sure the dagger was hidden well.

'I just hope it stays in place,' he thought, shaking his head, 'and that she doesn't use it, no matter how angry she gets. This isn't a time for us to make rash decisions, especially when help is so close to coming…'

*

Half an hour later found Vlasta, her concubines, and Ori sitting out under the shade of some trees as they were brought lunch. Despite his role as a servant, Ori found himself being forced to sit down as other servants –these ones being female- brought out the plates, cups, food, and drink. The swelling around Vlasta's right eye had gone down quite a bit, though it was still deep blue and purple in color. Regardless, she seemed to be in good spirits.

"So, see you slept well," she commented to Baylee. "Fresh air did you good, eh?"

Her cheeks turned a little pink and she nodded. "Aye, it did," she replied before taking a drink of the limonata. She had some difficulty with the task; her hands were incredibly sore and even slightly bending her fingers bought about shocks of pain.

"Sleep good for her," Jacek spoke up. "After yesterday, need lot of rest. Am not able to believe are still walking around after that much blood lost."

"She's small, but hardy, eh?" Vlasta grinned. She reached over and ruffled Baylee's hair, earning a small pout from the younger woman. Looking at Dag as she stabbed her knife into a tomato wedge, she pointed the speared fruit at him. "Everyone need baths before Damayanti-" she ignored Baylee and Ori's cringe, "-arrive. And eh…Dag, Motke help Ori. Jacek, help Baylee." She lifted one of Baylee's ashy braids, inspecting it. "Maybe do something with her hair, eh? Simple, but pretty."

Jacek nodded slowly, asking something in their native tongue. When Vlasta replied, he shrugged and nodded before ripping up some flat bread and using it to scoop up some brown paste. As he chewed, he gave Baylee a smile. "Not worry," he told her after swallowing. "Will have looking like goddess."

Motke laughed and nudged Ori with his elbow. "Guess that mean we make you look like god, huh?" he told the dwarf. He, too, ripped off a piece of flatbread, but filled his piece with a strange mixture of fruit and peppers. "Not worry, though. Will not make too flashy."

Ori raised his brow, somewhat worriedly. "Wait, so…you're going to just help me get dressed?" he cautiously inquired.

"Will also help scrub you," Vlasta answered. "Jacek will help Baylee."

"I can bathe on my own," Baylee protested.

"Can hardly lift cup today," Vlasta gently told her. "You will need help. Jacek is trustworthy; he won't try anything." She leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs, drinking a stronger, alcoholic version of limonata.

Jacek chuckled. "Not my sort of girl anyway. Are cute, but not…eh, as nice as Vlasta. Need bit more…" He waved his hands in the air, making curving motions. He winced as Vlasta thwacked him upside the head. "Ow! What that for?"

"She is pretty!" she scolded. "Just not of sort are used to. Is northern-pretty." Bringing her plate to her chest, she used her spoon to scoop some bites of bean salad into her mouth.

Ori glanced over at Baylee, finding her face red. He knew she was feeling embarrassed, but she remained quiet as she ate. 'Poor thing,' he thought, rolling up some cubes of meat, the brown paste, bean salad, and some sour, white cream in his piece of flatbread. He was careful to tuck in the ends so none of the food would spill out. 'Not only is she upset about Damayanti coming over, but she'll have a man helping her bathe…' He lightly shook his head and took a bite of his strange creation. 'But at least she won't have two men helping her bathe. Dag and Motke are nice and all, but they're a bit on the touchy-feely side. I'm just glad they seem more interested in Vlasta than me.'

Baylee poked at the brown paste. "What is this stuff?" she asked. She had tried it and liked it, but she couldn't even guess what it was made of.

"Is eh…" Vlasta popped a bite of meat into her mouth, slowly chewing as she thought of how to best explain it. "Beans. Take beans and boil them. Then mash them until smooth with herbs and bit of chicken stock. Heat again." She shrugged. "Ask Hezra if want recipe –not that will need recipe, eh?"

One of the servants hurried out of the house and, after bowing apologetically to Vlasta, hurried spoke to her. Vlasta's eyes widened and she looked at her, questioning her quickly. With a muttered excusal and apology, Vlasta got to her feet and hurried off.

Ori frowned. "What's goin' on?" he asked, seeing the frowns on the concubine's faces.

"Damayanti isn't coming with just her bodyguard like we had thought," Dag answered, glancing back down at his food. "She's bringing her whole court."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Rán stood in front of a large drawing of the raider city, her brows knitted together and her chin cupped between her fingers. While she had slept, Seth had drawn a rather intricate map detailing the locations of Tyko and Baylee and Ori, making it quite easy for her to visualize a plan in her mind. The only problem was that she was finding it difficult to come up with a sensible plan.

'I know my men are quiet and good at breaking into places,' she thought, crossing an arm over her chest. 'And I know the same stands for Nori…then again, from what I've witnessed, he has been a thief at some point in his life.' Closing her eyes, she rolled her head around her shoulders, feeling the bones creak, but none of them popped. 'Lovisa is silent, too –so is Bifur, for that matter. They would be good to bring along. As for the rest…'

Opening her eyes, she turned her head and glanced back at the group. Seth, Fifika, and Ashailyn were off scouting along the wall. Aizik, Girish, and Kreine were in the western portion of the forest, attempting to hunt down some deer or rabbit while the others were sitting about, waiting to hear Rán's strategy. Dwalin, Bifur, and Will were silent as they sharpened their weapons; Nori had his back against a tree and Zori curled up on his chest –both were fast asleep- while Lovisa and Bofur prepared a bit of lunch.

'It was already a risk bringing Bofur last night. That blunder of his could have cost us our lives.' Shaking her head, she stared back down at the ground. 'He is lucky that the Valar were on his side last night. No. I will not bring him with-'

_But it'll keep Baylee and Ori calm._

Closing her eyes, she rubbed her forehead as her more sensible thoughts made themselves known. 'They will need someone they know to help keep them feeling safe,' she admitted to herself. 'But I don't have to bring him along. I'll bring her brother. Yes, he's big, but he's also fast and strong.'

"Rán?"

She glanced up; Fifika, Seth, and Ashailyn were walking towards her. "You three are back early," she told them in their native tongue. "What brings you so soon?"

Ashailyn nodded. "We know it wasn't in our orders, but Fifika and I snuck into the city," she told her sister. "We were able to steal some food and some diapers."

"As well as locate the location of the wargs," Seth added. Plucking up a stick, he knelt down and hastily added in a large 'X' in the southeast corner of the map. "They're kept in a large area near the bay. It's fenced off with a wooden wall that's as tall as the stone one. As far as I could see, all wargs are kept inside that fence, like a giant stable."

"Could you see how many wargs there were?"

He shook his head, his arms resting on his thighs as he looked up at his commander. "No. But it sounded like there were at least three dozen."

Rán rubbed her face, sighing. "We need to get them out of there as soon as possible. I would like for it to be tonight, but there's just no way…"

Fifika set a reassuring hand on her shoulder. "If it brings you any comfort, some of us can go in tonight and keep a watch on the houses –see if anything happens."

She nodded. "That is a good idea. I'll go in, as well as Nakara and-"

Ashailyn gave her a stern look. "After being out most of last night? I think not."

"I slept most of today, sister. I'm fine."

"Do not give me your excuses, Rán. It's barely early afternoon and you fell asleep around nine in the morning. That isn't much sleep. You're going to stay here. I'll go in with Nakara and some others to keep a watch on the place."

"Ashailyn…"

"I don't care if you're my commanding officer, Rán –you're my sister, first and foremost, and you are exhausted. Tonight, you will sleep while you let me hand the situation." She ignored the quiet laughter coming from Seth and Fifika as they walked past them.

Rán stiffened slightly. "We'll see. I had planned on getting more sleep while I think of a plan."

"Well, you have all night to do both, because you're staying here. No arguments, Rán."

The expression on her sister's face kept Rán silent. She looked back down at the map, her jaw clenched.

_She's right though. I haven't slept nearly enough lately._

'It doesn't stop me from wanting to be there…'

Nearby, Bofur stirred when he heard a quiet whimper. Glancing over at Nori, he could see that Zori was beginning to wriggle, his face contorted in a look of discomfort. While Lovisa was distracted by the stew she was making, he rose to his feet –abandoning the biscuits he had been divvying up- and crept over to the sleeping Nori and fussy Zori. Just as Zori was about to let out a wail, he carefully scooped the child up, cradling him against his chest.

"Shh, shh," he quietly cooed. "It's alright. No need t' cry."

Zori whimpered quietly, squirming about in Bofur's arms. Tears were forming at the corners of his eyes, so Bofur started to gently rock his arm, hoping to lull the child back into sleep. He had been a hard one to put down for a nap; Bofur hoped it wouldn't be as hard to help him fall asleep again.

"Are ya thirsty?" Sitting down on the other side of the tree, he pulled out his flask and poured a little bit of the water into Zori's mouth. He eagerly drank the water, his hands trying to grip the lip of the flask and pull it closer. "Ah-ah, that's a no-no. You'll spill it all over yourself. Trust me; one o' my nephews tried the very same thing. Always ended up with milk or water up his nose, he did."

Watching Bofur as he talked, Zori slowly started to raise his hand up, trying to grab at one side of his mustache. He quietly cooed, not caring when a bit of water dribbled down his chin and along his shoulder –he only cared about grabbing that mustache.

"You've got some o' the bluest eyes I've ever seen," Bofur murmured, smiling. He was fairly used to little ones grabbing and tugging at his beard and hair, so he didn't mind in the least when Zori managed to grab hold of his mustache. "An' since you're not a dwarf, they'll probably stay blue, won't they? I'm sure you'll be usin' 'em to woo all the womenfolk when you're older."

"Already trying to tell him 'bout women?"

Bofur glanced up at Will as he moved to sit next to him. "May as well. I've the feelin' this wee lil' lad will be quite popular when he's an adult." He tilted his head as Zori tugged on his mustache. "Especially if Nori's the one who's goin' t' be raisin' him."

Will quietly chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. "…Can I hold him?" he hesitantly asked.

"Don't see why not," Bofur mused. Carefully untangling his facial hair from Zori's fists, he passed him over to Will. "Keep his head supported if you're goin' t' have him lyin' down. Ah, standin' up? Try bouncin' him a bit. Babies love t' bounce." Closing the flask, he set it aside and leaned back on his palms.

"I take it you know so much because you're Uncle Bofur?" Will chuckled, lightly bouncing Zori. The baby giggled, his legs wiggling about happily.

Bofur nodded. "Eight nieces an' nephews does tha' to someone," he smiled.

"I don't know what I would do if I had that many children."

"You'd love 'em, that's what."

Will smiled, watching as Zori clapped his hands together happily. "Tha' I would," he murmured. He still couldn't even begin to fathom why someone would toss their baby into an alley in the dead of night…Then again, he was still upset by how Manus Stover had treated Adela. "Parents should always love their children," he unconsciously murmured. "Not toss 'em out like trash…"

Nodding slowly, Bofur scratched his beard. "It's a big responsibility, bringin' a helpless lil' thing into the world. Those who can't take care o' them shouldn't have done the deed –or, if they can't help it, find ways around it." He watched as Will sat Zori down on the ground and, taking his small hands in his large ones, started to 'dance' with him. The whole time, Zori made noises of happiness.

"Baylee an' me were accidents," Will admitted, still dancing with Zori. "Mum and dad weren't married until we were nearly a year old. They still kept us an' raised us, even when people told them t' get rid o' us or have mum end her pregnancy. Said it would shame her family name t' have a child out o' wedlock..." He shook his head, a reminiscent smile coming to his lips. "I wish I had been around t' hear the scoldin' dad gave 'em. Dad still tells us he wouldn't have it any different." Shaking his head and grinning, he let out a small sigh. "I just hope I can be as good o' a father someday as he's been. He's had to put up with so much shit from us over the years…"

Bofur smiled. "I think you'd be a good father, lad."

"You think?" He glanced over at the dwarf, his stomach fluttering slightly. He started to tickle Zori, who let out an occasional laugh.

He nodded. "Aye. I mean, look at the way you're playin' with Zori there! You've got him all giggles 'n smiles."

Will quietly laughed. "I suppose it'll be different when it's my own, though."

"Oh, no doubt. You'll not want t' hand them over t' strangers or let them out o' your sight, but at the same time, you can't help but toss 'em a small ways into the air just t' hear them let out a laugh…" He started to straighten out his mustache, combing out the small knots Zori had made.

"You almost sound like ya speak from experience."

He quickly shook his head. "Oh, no, no, no…just observation, lad. I've never been a father. Don't know if I'll ever get the chance to…" He rubbed the back of his neck, looking at the ground.

"You may get a chance yet. I mean, when we rescue Baylee…"

"Nice try, lad," he chuckled, cheeks turning red. "I don't think I'll even get a kiss out o' her until we're back in Dale."

Will cocked his head. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Bofur rubbed the back of his neck. "Lad, I can't tell her that I love her right after this sort o' situation. For Mahal's sake, the poor thing got her finger's chopped off!" He shook his head, sighing heavily. "She's traumatized, lad. What she needs is her brother t' console her, not me tellin' her that I love her out o' the blue like tha'." He gave Will a reassuring smile. "I've waited this long; I can wait a while longer."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The day had managed to turn from hot to hotter as clouds rolled in, trapping the morning's heat and amplifying it. It was hard to believe that it was only early summer by this point. Ori yawned as he rested his hands over his chest. He had his head tilted back against the edge of the bathing pool and was enjoying the feel of the lukewarm water on his skin. With his eyes closed, he couldn't see Dag and Motke as they sorted through different bath oils, trying to guess which one would leave them smelling best, but he could hear them as they quietly talked to one another in their strange language.

After a few minutes of deliberation, Dag sank into the water with a glass bottle containing spicy-smelling oil while Motke had one that smelled more of fruit. Dag glanced up when he noticed that Ori hadn't started to clean himself.

"Ori, what scent you want?" he asked, pouring a bit of the oil into his palm.

Ori scrunched his nose up, catching whiffs of the strong oils. "I don't need any," he replied, sitting upright. Grabbing a cloth, he started to wash himself.

"Not want to smell good?" Motke asked, frowning a bit.

He shook his head. "No, thank you. I'm fine with just a bit o' soap and a washcloth."

Dag and Motke raised their brows, glancing at one another. Turning, Dag plucked up one of the bottles and tossed it to Ori, watching as it landed in the water beside him. "You'll at least need that," he told him, "for your hair. Trust me, you will need it."

"I don't see why," he grumbled, plucking up the bottle. Uncorking it, he was met by a gentle, floral scent that was surprisingly underwhelming.

"The royal court will be coming here in less than two hours, that's why," Dag told him, a bit of a scolding tone to his voice. "We need to look and smell our best, regardless if we're servants or concubines." He glanced up when the door opened and Jacek poked his head in. He said something and pointed at the vials before Motke plucked one up and tossed it to him. Jacek thanked him and left.

"What scent did he take?" Ori inquired.

"Almond," Motke replied. "Only almond and lemon overpower scent of calendula. Is not bad scent, but not good scent when around royals. They know have been hurt and sort of….frown on you."

Ori frowned. "Well, it's Damayanti's fault that Baylee has t' smell like that because it was her who cut off Baylee's fingers!" He grumbled in Khuzdul as he scrubbed his leg. "If she had just been a sane person and acted rationally-"

Dag set his hand on the dwarf's shoulder. "Ori…Ya need t' calm down. You can't act like this when the others get here or else something worse could happen." His voice was gentle, but it still had the scolding tone he had used earlier. Ori would have preferred that he had used a harsher voice to reprimand him –at least then, he wouldn't be left feeling so ashamed. "Since you're male, Damayanti wouldn't hesitate t' cut off something more vital than your ring fingers." To emphasize his point, he glanced down at a certain area of Ori's anatomy.

His cheeks turning red, Ori crossed his legs and glanced away. "I just don't want her near me or Baylee," he quietly told him. "I already hated the way she kept touching me and tryin' to seduce me and then she goes an' just chops off Baylee's fingers…" He shook his head. "She needs to stay far, far away from us."

Motke shook his head, sighing. "Are going to have to put up with her," he told him. "She will be here a lot, whether like or not. And, since are stuck here…" He trailed off and scrubbed some oil into his hair.

"Not for much longer," Ori unconsciously grumbled.

The two men looked at each other once more, their brows knitted together. "An' just what is that supposed t' mean?" asked Dag.

Ori glanced up, a bit startled. "Pardon?"

"What did ya mean –'not for much longer'?" Dag asked again. "You're Vlasta's servant now; you're not goin' anywhere. Trust me, we've tried t' get away, but she's always caught us."

"Well, her or warg," Motke mused.

Rubbing his arm, Ori glanced away. "N-nothing. It's just wishful thinkin' is all," he lied –poorly.

"Don't lie," Motke told him, his voice stern. "What mean when say are not staying much longer? Did Vlasta tell that are going elsewhere?"

Defiantly, Ori crossed his arms and met their gazes. "Our friends are coming t' rescue us," he told them. He swallowed hard. "They're not the sorts who would just let us remain here for the rest o' our lives –especially my lover. When he finds out where I am, he'll come charging in and hewing down anyone who tries to stop him."

To his surprise, Dag laughed and patted him on the back. "Still hopeful? I pity you, Ori," he chuckled, though there was a hint of empathy in his words. "You'll learn soon enough that having any hope of gaining your freedom again is folly. No one will come –an' even if they did, they would never be able t' find this place. They would get lost in the maze o' a forest outside of the mountains an' lose hope an' return home. They won't come."

Ori looked down into the water, his arms still crossed. 'They're already here,' he thought, scrubbing at his nails. 'They just need to get us.'

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Nori was startled out of his nap by something smacking his leg. His eyes snapping open, he looked down at his lap to find Zori attempting to climb over his thigh, though it was proving to be too difficult a task for the young one. A small smile came to his lips as he reached down and plucked up the child.

"An' just what do you think you're doing, young lad?" he murmured, tickling his belly. Zori giggled, trying to grab at his fingers. "So, you can crawl? You're a bit older than I thought, then. Means you'll also be causing more mischief for us."

Zori looked up at him, grinning broadly. Managing to grab Nori's finger, he tugged it towards his mouth and started to gum on it. Nori's brow rose –there was something trying to come through his gum.

'Oh lovely,' he thought, 'he's cutting a tooth. At least he seems to be rather mellow about it, though…' He quietly laughed as Zori made soft growling and grunting noises as he gummed the finger. 'He's kind of a cute child. I need to find some better food for him, though. Mashed berries, water, and stew broth can only last a baby so long…He needs some proper food if he's going to gain any weight back.'

Out of nowhere, an assortment of bird calls filled the air. Nori looked up in time to see the rangers jumping to their feet and gathering up their belongings. He frowned.

"What's going on?" Dwalin demanded.

"We need to move," Rán replied. "And fast. Quick! Don't worry about packing, just grab it!" She used her foot to erase the map out of the dirt. Lovisa grabbed the pot of stew while Will poured water over the fire and started to hurriedly cover up its ashes. "Head into the forest; follow the bird calls."

Zori whined against Nori's finger, not liking the sudden burst in activity. Cradling him against his chest, Nori snatched up his pack and cloak before getting to his feet and running towards the thicker trees. Whimpering, Zori clung onto Nori's hand and squirmed; the jostling of Nori's running was not the gentle bouncing that he liked.

Awkwardly shouldering his pack and tossing his cloak over his shoulder, Nori held onto Zori with both hands. He did his best to keep him from getting bumped around too much. "You're doing well, Zori," he murmured. "You're being a brave lil' lad. If we're safe enough soon, I'll grind you up some rabbit meat. How's that? I know you like rabbit; you ate some last night." Glancing down at him, a rare, tender smile came to Nori's features as he saw that Zori was just staring at him, no longer whimpering. "There's a lad…"

More bird calls filled the air and, doing as Rán had ordered, he followed them. Risking a look over his shoulder, he could see Will, Lovisa, and his fellow dwarves running into the forest, yet of the rangers, he could only see Aizik and Hunil racing after them. Where the other rangers were, he hadn't the slightest idea.

What he did know was that he heard the distant sound of wargs.

Looking ahead again, he cursed and was just barely able to stop himself from crashing into Girish.

"Get in trees," Girish ordered, pointing up. "Warg riders!"

Dwalin stopped behind Nori. "Up yeh go!" Squatting down, he grabbed Nori's legs before launching upwards, sending the slightly-smaller dwarf flying into the air. Nori gripped the branch and pulled himself up, clutching Zori to his chest. Once he was on the branch, he reached down, grabbing Dwalin's hand as he jumped up.

In the tree next to theirs, Will was tossing Bofur at the lowest branches while Bifur was keeping an eye out, his spear at the ready. He saw Lovisa hurrying towards the tree, a somewhat panicked look on her face, and he stabbed the spear into the ground so he could help her. Entwining his fingers, he crouched down slightly and she jumped at him. He caught her foot and pushed himself upwards, flinging her. A relieved smile came to his lips when she grabbed onto the lowest branch, getting helped by Bofur.

"C'mon, Bifur," Will urged as they could hear snarling in the distance. He looked over his shoulder, but he could see nothing.

With a moment's hesitation, Bifur tucked his spear into his holster and hurried over to Will. As he was thrown upwards, he grunted and caught onto a branch. To his ears, the sounds of wargs was growing closer and he moved to call out to Will, but as he hauled himself up, he could see the human leaping into a different tree out of the corner of his eye.

"Why is it tha' every time we encounter wargs, we end up stuck in the trees?" Dwalin grumbled as he and Nori climbed up higher.

"This time we don't have Gandalf or the eagles t' help us," Bofur grunted, shoving Bifur up ahead of him. "An' that's if they even find us!"

"If stay quiet, won't find us!" Girish hissed into the trees. He, Aizik, and Hunil were hurrying about the ground, covering up any tracks that they may have made near the trees. "So shh!"

Taking that as an order, they fell silent. Nori lightly bounced Zori on his knee, keeping the child placated while the adults sat in a tense silence. The sound of wargs was growing ever closer, causing them to grow nervous. Eventually, the rangers climbed into the trees, taking shelter as well.

Then, seemingly out of nowhere, a small herd of deer stampeded past their hiding spots. Chasing after them were three wargs, each being ridden by a woman. One of the woman drew an arrow and, sitting upright, aimed an arrow before releasing it.

A large elk stumbled and tumbled to the ground before landing in a crumpled heap.

The one who had shot it slowed her warg while the others continued on. Dismounting, she walked over to the slain animal and gave it a light prod with her foot, but it did not move. From where she sat, Lovisa could tell that the elk's neck had been broken in the fall. The woman looked back at her warg, giving it an order; it obediently laid down, resting its large head on its forepaws.

Hunil glanced over at Aizik and Girish, the three of them slowly drawing out various items as they readied themselves. Silently, he held up his hand, raising one finger, then two, and finally –they leapt out of the trees.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

The sea breeze was nice and cool, even if the night air was not. Vlasta's courtyard and garden were teeming with people, most of them various sorts of entertainers. Many of the entertainers were highly decorated men who danced in exotic outfits or who played lively tunes on strange instruments, but some were women who could breathe fire or who could tumble through the air with the grace of a bird. It was quite the marvelous sight, especially with the light of dozens of oil-torches lighting the area.

Damayanti was reclining on a set of cushions, nestled at the head of the courtyard as she watched the festivities. All around her, members of her court as well as Vlasta and her concubines lounged on heaps of cushions and lengths of silks while servants brought them small snacks or refilled their goblets. This finger-food mostly consisted of tiny portions of salad served on stiff lettuce leaves or smooth cheeses smeared onto small crackers. These were meant to tide over the guests while two large elk were being roasted over an open fire out in the garden.

Ori found it all to be rather extravagant, but he was thankful that Vlasta had put him to work inside the house, as hot as it was. For the most part, he was out of sight of Damayanti and he was close to the food. So close, in fact, that he was currently helping Hezra and two other cooks prepare the side dishes for the main course. They had given him the task of mashing up large, white seeds, herbs, and olive oil together in a large mortar. It was hard work; many of the seeds tried to fly out of the bowl when he brought the pestle down on them. After retrieving them, he tried again, finding some success as he smashed the pestle exactly downwards with no angle.

That task, however, was soon over. When he had mashed and ground the seeds into a fine paste, Hezra came over and tasted it. She nodded approvingly before snatching up the mortar, exchanging it for a large bowl filled with spicy syrup. This she forced into Ori's hands.

"Take to fire," she ordered, pointing outside. "No stopping! Go!" Spinning Ori around, she gave him a light shove out of the door.

Clutching onto the bowl for dear life –it was almost filled to the brim- Ori started to weave his way through the crowd towards the roasting elks. His stomach grumbled loudly as he caught whiffs of the delicious smell and he sighed, wishing he could taste it now. The meat, he knew, still had a long ways to go, so he sighed in disappointment.

As he stepped up to the fire, he saw two women tending to the elk. For some reason, they looked quite familiar to him, though he would never be able to guess where he knew them from. He swallowed hard and held out the bowl to the nearest female.

"Hezra told me t' bring this," he told her.

The woman reached out, taking it from him as her auburn hair cascaded over her shoulder. "Thank you, Ori." Winking, she turned away and started to use a large brush to baste the elk carcasses.

He stared at her, gulping quietly. "D-do I know you?" he asked her, his brows furrowed.

She glanced back at him. "I don't know. Do you?" As she grinned, he could see scars running along her lips –scars left by stitches.

Eyes widening, he felt his stomach jump excitedly. He quickly turned around and started to head back, weaving his way through the crowd of performers and court members. Just as he was about to enter the house again, he felt a hand on his shoulder. Jumping, he turned around only to find Baylee standing behind him.

"Didn't mean t' startle you," she apologized. She was clad in all white with many, many pieces of gold jewelry adorning her body. "Is it alright if I come inside for a while or will I get told off?"

"No, no, come in," he told her. In fact, he ushered her indoors where it was much quieter –and warmer. "Do you need anythin' to eat or drink?"

"Some water, but I can get that myself."

He glanced up at her, his brow rising. "You're not allowed to –at least, not while there are so many people here. Vlasta came into the kitchen earlier to get some more limonata and I got smacked for not bein' the one to refill it. I had just come out of the pantry!" He shook his head as he led her down the hall. "Also, it'd be safer for you to stay out here. Hezra and the other cooks are a little…crazy tonight with all the cooking."

She nodded, leaning against the wall with her hand tucked behind her back. Watching Ori head into the kitchen, she quietly sighed and slipped her free hand along her thigh. The skirt she was wearing was comprised of many layers of thin silk with a slit up one side; tucked under the waist band was her knife. Earlier, when she had been bathing, Jacek had found the knife, but she had told him –quite cleverly, she thought- that it had been a gift from Vlasta and that he wasn't supposed to have seen it. As she felt its outline under the cloth, a sense of relief washed over her.

"Here you go."

She looked up, watching as Ori came out of the kitchen, a mug of water in hand. "Thank you," she smiled, taking it. "Ya haven't been smacked too much, I hope?" She drank from the mug.

Ori shook his head. "No –an' before you worry, the only time I was hit tonight was a light smack. Didn't even leave a welt." He held up his arm, proving his point. "So how's the party going?"

"It was almost fun at first, but then the performers got a bit boring and the music isn't the sort that I can listen to for a long time –an' there's this really weird instrument someone's playin' that sounds like a dyin' duck." She drank more water as she glanced down the hallway, a servant walking by. "Not t' mention Damayanti. It's like she knows I'm upset, so she tries t' get as close t' me as often as possible just to mock me." She took another drink of her water.

He rubbed the back of his neck, giving her an apologetic smile. "You're safe from her in here, at the least."

"It's not me I'm worried about." Reaching over, she lightly tousled his hair. "But you're right. You're safe while you're in here. So long as ya don't leave often-"

"Baylee."

She glanced up and found Dag at the end of the hall. "Yes?"

"Vlasta's lookin' for you. You best hurry; she wants t' show ya somethin'."

After she took a third drink of water from her mug, Ori took the vessel from her and urged her forward. "What is it she wants t' show me?" she quietly asked as Dag set his arm around her shoulders, leading her outside.

"I'm not sure, t' be honest," he answered. "I think she more or less just wants t' keep ya in eyesight." He glanced around as they passed by a group of men and women who stared at them lustfully. "As concubines, we're only allowed t' be touched by her, but there are some here who wouldn't hesitate t' break that unwritten law…So I think she's just wantin' to keep you safe."

She shuddered and nodded in understanding. "I'll keep that in mind if I wander off again," she murmured.

He glimpsed down at her. "You're too small; you wouldn't be able t' fight off anyone."

Baylee stiffened slightly. "I've fought goblins that were bigger than most men," she suddenly admitted to him, crossing her arms over her stomach. "A few courtiers don't worry me." She looked around at the guests, trying to find Damayanti so that she could keep an eye on her.

Dag stared down at her in shock. "You've-" He was unable to finish his sentence, though, for they had reached Vlasta, who was sprawled on a large, silk pillow. She grinned up at her smallest concubine and beckoned her to come sit beside her.

With a quiet sigh, Baylee tucked her skirt underneath her and sat down beside the warrior. "Where did go, hmm?" Vlasta asked. Her speech was slightly slurred and her cheeks rosy; Baylee wondered how many goblets of wine she had consumed.

"I wanted some water," she replied, shrinking slightly as Vlasta threw her arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. "So I found Ori and went inside."

She nodded, popping a cracker into her mouth. "Be careful next time, eh?" she instructed, despite her full mouth. "Not everyone here is nice."

"Dag told me."

Nodding again, Vlasta leaned back and sighed. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back, grinning slightly. "Is good party, eh? Would be better if not had been surprise party."

"I think you're only saying that because you're drunk." She scanned the crowd again, still trying to find Damayanti. "Where did the queen go?"

"Eh…She goes where she wants."

Baylee rolled her eyes. 'Of course,' she thought. She froze, thinking she had seen Lovisa across the courtyard, but the person had vanished just seconds later. 'Was that…?' She shook her head. 'No. They wouldn't risk such a thing…' Leaning back as well, she brought her knees to her chest and continued to observe. The smell of roasting elk was growing stronger as the minutes passed and her stomach grumbled loudly; it had been a long while since last had venison.

Some time passed –it could have been half an hour, it could have been an hour for all Baylee knew- when cheers arose from the garden. Soon, two women came in, carrying both cooked elks on their spits, the long poles resting on their shoulders. Baylee's eyes widened and she gawked at the women as they passed by; she recognized them to be Ashailyn and Fifika.

'Maybe they are risking such a thing,' she thought, her mouth slightly agape. She was startled when Vlasta reached over and lightly shut her mouth for her.

"I know," she smirked. "Food look good. Taste good, too! Hezra's recipe; I can tell by smell." Stretching, she lazily draped both arms around Baylee and plopped her chin atop her head. "Are good size for headrest…Are you sure are in twenties?"

"I'm positive, Vlasta," she replied, squirming slightly. Something moved in the corner of her eye, though when she looked over, she saw nothing at first. Squinting, she tilted her head up, just barely able to see Ori in one of the windows. 'What's he doing up there?' she thought. Then her eyes widened in horror –Damayanti was in the same room.

Vlasta fell forward as Baylee jumped to her feet. Darting through the crowd, she made no time to apologize when she shoved someone aside or knocked something from their hands. Jacek tried to stop her, but she pulled her arm from his hand and bolted into the house; she could hear Vlasta calling out something about her feeling ill and needing the privy.

She took the stairs two at a time, having to hike her skirt up to stop herself from tripping. There was shouting coming from the end of the hall, as well as the sound of furniture being knocked over. Clenching her teeth, she ran down the hall to the only closed door.

"Get away from me!" Ori shouted behind it. Something about his voice seemed off.

"Not many males resist me, little dwarf. They know it's not a smart idea," came Damayanti's voice. It was as calm as ever and her small laugh seemed almost mocking.

Baylee slammed her palm on the door, ignoring the pain. "You stay away from him!" she shouted, her other hand trying the latch, but it didn't budge.

Something crashed to the ground inside the room. "You stay out of this, little girl!" Damayanti snarled. "Go back to party and be a good little whore!"

"Keep fightin' her, Ori!" she snapped. Growling, she drew the dagger from her side and jammed it between the door and the frame. She wiggled it upwards, trying to dislodge the lock, though it was proving harder than she thought. More crashing and cursing came from within the room and she clenched her teeth. Damayanti cried out; Ori must have landed a blow.

'Valar, don't do this to me,' she desperately thought. Grunting, she yanked the knife upwards only to nearly stumble back as the lock finally came loose. '…Thank you.' Sheathing the knife, she flung open the door and found the room to be a mess. Damayanti had Ori pinned to the ground, his hands above his head as she kissed him. Her cheek was bruised and there marks along her arms and legs from where Ori had smacked or clawed at her; he, too, bore scratch marks and red welts from where she had hurt him.

The queen let out a yelp as she was suddenly yanked backwards. She glared up at Baylee, a smirk on her lips as she watched the smaller woman move between her and Ori. "This is a bad idea, little girl," she warned. "I'll let you have last chance to turn around and leave. Otherwise, you'll end up dead, I promise."

"Don't make promises you can't keep." Baylee stared down at her, hatred on her face. "I'll give you this last chance t' leave or else I'll make ya regret ever touchin' him."

Ori weakly got to his feet; his head was swimming. "B-Baylee…be careful…" He slid back to the floor, holding his forehead and feeling something sticky coating it. Pulling his hand back, he saw that his palm was covered in blood. When he looked away from his hand, Damayanti was lunging at Baylee.

Neither he nor Baylee knew how long the fight lasted. For many minutes, Baylee and Damayanti wrestled, kicking and punching one another until Ori managed to wrench the queen away. Baylee knelt on the floor, blood flowing from her nose and mouth.

Damayanti clawed at his face and missed, hitting his collarbone, before slamming her fist into his stomach, making him wince. Grabbing her top, he sharply pulled her down, smashing his knee into her face. A grunt of pain left her mouth and she stumbled back, covering her now-broken nose with her hands.

Baylee picked up a stool and went to slam it across the queen's back, but Damayanti saw her in the window's reflection and spun around, catching its leg. Wrenching it out of her grip, she used it to instead smack her across the face, sending Baylee sprawling to the ground. Ori stared at her unmoving body, his eyes widening in horror. Damayanti threw the stool onto the ground, shattering it.

"She didn't stand a chance," Damayanti purred, daring to run a finger along Ori's jaw. "I gave her chance to leave-"

With a snarl, Ori jabbed his elbow into her gut and, when she doubled over, smacked his forehead against hers. Staggering back, she coughed and leaned against the wall for support. She looked up at the dwarf, blood running down her face as she smirked. Slowly, she crouched down to the ground.

"You are a good fighter," she told him. "Was not expecting that from such a gentle dwarf."

"Don't try that with me," Ori snapped, his gaze locking with hers. They both refused to blink. "I know you're not giving up yet."

"Of course I'm not. I'm merely distracting you."

He frowned. "Distracting me?"

Jumping to her feet again, Damayanti stepped forward and slammed a broken stool leg into the side of his head. He lurched backwards and slid down to the floor, unconscious.

The queen's victory was short lived. She cried out as her legs were knocked out from under her and she landed hard on the ground only to have Baylee's foot slam into the side of her face. Snarling, she grabbed Baylee's ankle and yanked her towards her, her free hand seizing the smaller woman's throat when she was close enough. Baylee made a strangled choking noise, her hands gripping Damayanti's wrist.

"You thought you could best me," sneered the queen, "but you are just little girl, too weak to be of any good." A sick sort of joy filled her as she watched Baylee's face begin to change colors. "Should return your body to Dale. Let them know you died a dishonorable death…"

"Good luck with that," Baylee wheezed. Her hand leaving her wrist, she drew out the dagger and stabbed it up and under the queen's sternum. Damayanti gasped, her eyes widening in shock and pain. Baylee pulled the knife out, a flood of blood rolling down the blade and onto her hand before dripping down onto her own stomach.

In her last moments, Damayanti tried to finish killing Baylee, but her grip grew weaker and weaker as her blood spilled down onto her stomach. At last, she slumped over onto the floor and Baylee gulped air into her lungs before coughing. Her head was pounding inside her skull, but the rest of her body felt numb. Sitting up and looking at herself, she started to quietly whimper –she was covered in blood. She started trying to wipe it off of her skin, but it was in vain; there was just too much.

Hands suddenly rested on her shoulders. "Are you hurt?"

"I don't know," she choked out, not recognizing the voice at first. "I don't think so…" She continued trying to use the layers of her skirt to get the blood off of her skin.

"Mouth is bleeding." A gentle hand cupped her chin and lifted her head; Baylee found herself looking at Ashailyn. "Your lip is split…"

Baylee pulled her head away from Ashailyn and let out a quiet sob. "I can't get it off –there's too much. It's not comin' off!" She was shaking by now.

"Shh, shh." She held Baylee against her for a moment as she looked over at Fifika and Lovisa, both of whom were tending to Ori. "Have never killed human before, have you?"

She shook her head and let out another sob. "No! I didn't mean t' kill her, but she was –she was tryin' t' rape Ori an' I couldn't…I couldn't let that happen!"

"Is alright. She not good woman. Killed her in self-defense."

In truth, the slaying of Damayanti was not the least bit 'alright'. Ashailyn, Fifika, and Lovisa had been there only to observe; now that the queen had been killed meant that they had to get Baylee and Ori out of there before anyone noticed that something was wrong. But how they were supposed to do that, she hadn't the slightest idea.

"Fifika." The ranger looked at her. "Go and see if front of house guarded. May be able to sneak out in plain sight."

Nodding, Fifika rose to her feet and hurried out of the room. Lovisa, meanwhile, waved a small bottle under Ori's nose and he woke with a start. His eyes widened as he saw who was tending to him, but he grinned and slowly sat up. The grin faded when he saw Damayanti's body and the sobbing Baylee.

"This isn't good," he mumbled, his skin paling.

'Are going to get out,' Lovisa signed to him. She wore a reassuring smile, though her eyes were filled with worry. 'Going to get you safe, sound.'

He nodded slowly before crawling over to Baylee. "Baylee…" he murmured, his hand resting on his shoulder. He ripped off a portion of his skirt and started to wipe the tears and blood from her face. "Thank you," he quietly told her.

"I only wanted t' protect you," she sniffled.

"You did protect me."

"But look at you! You're covered in welts an' bruises an' scratches…" She ran her fingers along a particularly deep scratch on his collarbone.

An encouraging smile came to his lips. "These? These are nothing. But look at you…split lip, bloody nose, scratches all over your front…You took a beat and are still conscious!"

She managed a quiet laugh. "I've had worse."

Fifika returned then, a hurried look on her face. "Come. No one guarding, but people beginning to wonder where queen is. Need leave now."

Lovisa and Ashailyn nodded before helping Ori and Baylee to their feet. Ori was a bit wobbly, so Lovisa threw her arm around his back and helped to keep his steady as they hurried down the stairs. Luck was on their side –no servants were in the halls or near the front door. As they sprinted through the house, the five could hear shouting coming from the kitchen; Ori supposed Hezra wasn't happy with one of the side dishes. Whatever it was, it helped them slip, unnoticed, into the dark street outside.

At least, they _thought_ they had gone out unnoticed.


	20. Chapter 20

Will poked at the tiny fire, trying to keep the coals bunched together so that their heat could continue keeping the stew warm until Ashailyn, Fifika, Lovisa, and Girish returned from their observation missions. Nakara, Dwalin, and Nori were on watch around the camp while everyone else was asleep. He leaned back against the tree, rubbing his stomach with his hand; his guts were churning, but not in a sickly fashion. He felt nervous and even a bit scared, but he couldn't possibly guess why.

Leaning over, he plucked up the wooden spoon and used it to lift the lid off of the stew pot. It had been a good dinner of rabbit stew with some stolen carrots and potatoes (Nori had snuck into town once again) and he wanted to steal another bite or two, but he knew better. With the way his stomach was feeling, he knew he shouldn't risk it; not to mention, the four rangers had yet to eat and would more than likely be starving when they returned. As he stirred the stew, he saw that there was enough left for at least ten people thanks to the rangers having caught five rabbits.

'Too bad we won't be able to eat like this when the others are rescued,' he thought. 'Dad and Adela won't be too happy with how much weight I've lost these past few weeks. Though, I suppose they'll be too distracted by Baylee's state. I hope she hasn't lost any more weight along with her fingers…She can't afford to lose much more.'

A shrill whistle filled the air, causing him to curse and drop the spoon into the pot. Luckily, it was too long to sink all the way in and part of the handle still protruded from the pot. Will, however, ignored the spoon as he tried to peer through the darkness. Two more whistles echoed through the forest, these ones softer and coming from a nearby tree.

Nakara dropped down from the tree, but before Will could ask what was going on, he ran off in the direction of the wall. He supposed that the other rangers had finally returned from their missions and he turned back to eyeing the fire. The various calls seemed to have woken up various members of the group, however, and they started to grumpily stir.

"Kulhu Mahal kherum tada?" Bifur grumbled, pushing himself up onto his elbows. "Aklat zurkur rukhsaz…" He rubbed his face with one hand as he let out a long yawn.

"Don't think it was an orc," Bofur grunted. He pushed himself onto his knees, his hat tugged down over his eyes. He didn't bother fixing it; instead, he turned his head towards Will. "Lad, do you know what's goin' on?"

"I haven't a clue," he replied with a shrug. Reaching into the pot, he dared to steal a bit of rabbit meat and pop it into his mouth. As he swallowed, he was glad to find that his stomach was not going to protest.

Rán sat up, though kept her eyes shut as she listened to the surrounding noises. "How many whistles came before Nakara answered?"

"Just one."

She nodded before getting to her feet. "Stay here. No one leave the sight of the fire." She hurried into the forest, following in Nakara's footsteps.

"Stayin' in sight o' the fire's a bit hard," Bofur yawned, flopping back down. "It's built into the ground. Can't see it unless you're within two feet of the blasted thing." He nuzzled his head into his pack, which he had been using as a pillow, and let out a grunt.

Will chuckled and nodded, finally fetching the spoon as he heard approaching footsteps. "Well, it keeps it from being-" The spoon dropped into the pot again as he glanced up, seeing Fifika, Ashailyn, and Lovisa returning. Rán was with them, but none of the rangers had managed to catch his eye –his gaze was fixed on the sight of a blood-soaked Baylee walking between Ashailyn and Fifika and beaten-up Ori limping alongside Lovisa.

Jumping to his feet, he raced towards them. Baylee let out a small cry and stumbled towards Will, her arms outstretched. They met in the middle, Will plucking his big sister off of the ground and holding her tightly against him while sobbing his thanks to the Valar. He could feel the blood on her skin and skirt soaking through his shirt and trousers, but he could not have cared less. All that mattered to him at the moment was that he had his sister back and that she was mostly whole.

Dwalin raced past them and snatched up Ori, spinning him in a small circle before giving him a deep kiss. A surprised curse left Ori's mouth, but he laughed and flung his arms around Dwalin's neck, happily kissing him in return as he unconsciously wrapped his legs around Dwalin's torso, tangling his fingers in his hair. He had been hoping to see Nori first, but his lover was just as pleasant of a sight for now.

Bofur glanced up, his eyes widening as he saw the returning group. He jumped to his feet and dashed forward a couple of paces, wanting to greet Ori and Baylee, before suddenly stopping. 'No,' he told himself. 'Let them see their family and Dwalin first. They've been so worried about them, they deserve the first hugs.' Regardless, he let out a relieved sigh as he smiled at them.

"Well this is a pleasant surprise!" he laughed aloud. "We've got two o' our friends back!"

Rán glanced over at him. "It would be better if it were under different circumstances. We need to leave. Now." Her voice had none of the happiness that everyone else was feeling; instead, it bore an almost scary sense of urgency.

Will looked over at her. "But we can't leave yet –Ori an' Baylee are hurt! Look at her; she's covered in blood!"

"It's not mine," Baylee replied, her voice tiny. "Well, some o' it is, but most o' it isn't…"

He stared at his sister. "Baylee…"

"Not now, Will. Please. Not now." She buried her face in the crook of his neck, whimpering.

Rán set her hand on his arm. "We need to pack up and leave," she told him, her voice gentle. "It is a mile to the horses and you may need to carry her. Do you think you can handle that?"

"She's lighter than a butterfly; I can handle it," he replied. Rán nodded and walked off to alert the others, leaving them alone.

"I can walk," Baylee protested. "An' I'm heavier than a butterfly…"

"Not right now, you're not," he told her, carrying her over to his things. "Baylee…are ya hurt anywhere? Be honest."

She shook her head. "I think I just have a split lip," she told him. She glanced around as he started to shove his cloak into his pack; taking it from him, she started to roll it into a small, tight log. "You never could pack well."

He quietly laughed. "We're in a bit o' a hurry."

"I know. It's my fault." She handed him the cloak, her eyes not meeting his until he lightly lifted her chin. "I killed someone," she whispered.

"Well…I figured that one out, 'Lee. You're covered in their blood."

"She was tryin' to hurt Ori…I didn't mean t' kill her, Will. I thought I just stabbed her, but she bled out on me." She started to shake again and closed her eyes, holding herself. "Now we could be in trouble an' it's all my fault-"

He pulled her against him. "Shh, it's alright, 'Lee. You were protectin' him. Sometimes, the only way t' keep your friends an' family safe is t' kill someone."

"I don't like it. I can handle killing goblins…but humans…" She shook her head.

"You're not supposed t' like it," he assured her. "It's never easy."

Across the camp, Ori was watching as Nori and Dwalin hurriedly gathered their things. For the most part, Dwalin had been quiet; Ori knew that it was because he was trying to keep himself from bursting out into a fit of joyful sobbing. It was nice, though, because, instead, the large dwarf showed his relief through hugs and kisses –something Ori never grew tired of.

Nori, on the other hand, seemed off. He had given Ori a brief hug before rushing over to his belongings; he had been hunched over them since then, quietly talking to himself. At least, Ori thought he was talking to himself.

So when he approached his brother and saw him gently lifting up a sleep baby, he had to cover his mouth to keep himself from shouting out. "Nori, what in Mahal's name is that?" he hissed through his fingers.

"What does it look like?" he quietly asked. "He's a baby." He slipped Zori into the makeshift sling across his chest.

He rubbed his face. "Where did you get a baby of all things!?"

"I stole him last night from his mother."

"Why a baby, Nori? Is he made o' solid gold or got rubies for eyes?"

Nori sighed and glanced up at his little brother. "Ori, I saw his mother throw him into the street as if he were garbage. There was yellin' and screaming going on inside of the house –I knew she wouldn't take him back." He looked down at Zori as he slept, managing to hide the smile that was trying to come to his lips. "I saved him. I know this situation isn't really the best-"

"Far from it."

"-But I had t' do something. I wasn't going let him stay there and probably die." He shrugged his pack on. "Anyway, he sort o' cute…for a baby. Kind o' like you when you were a babe, but without all o' the hair."

Ori felt his cheeks turn pink. "You weren't around when I was a baby."

Nori frowned. "Of course I was!" He clapped his hand on Ori's shoulder. "Who else could have told you all those stories about Arîdain an' the forty thieves or Rûmpilskilkín? Dori would never tell you such 'outlandish tales that glorify thieving'," he chuckled.

Looking at his feet, Ori lightly kicked at the ground. "That's true," he mumbled. He quietly gasped as Nori suddenly gave him a tight hug, but returned it with a small smile. As much as he resented Nori's presence at times, he had to admit that he had missed his middle brother.

"I'm glad you're safe," he murmured, patting him on the back. "This is some adventure you've had, isn't it?"

Ori sighed, following alongside his brother as they started to walk through the forest. "It's not quite over yet, it seems."

His words could not have been truer, for they had just scarcely reached the horses when the still night air was blown apart with the sound of dozens of trumpets. Startled, the horses let out fearful cries and tugged at the ropes that secured them to trees. Their riders were able to calm them, though it took many precious minutes to do such.

"They'll be scourin' the city before they send out warg riders," Will told them as he fumbled with one of his saddle bags. Through the dark, Baylee could see him untying a long pole from underneath it.

Rán nodded in agreement. "They do not yet know that Baylee and Ori have fled the city; no doubt, they believe that they have gone towards the sea or to the south –those are the easiest points to flee to." She started to ready her horse, glancing over at her fellow rangers. In their native tongue, she gave them quick orders.

"Here." Will handed the long object to Baylee, who took it from him. "I have the feeling you'll be needing this. I found it at the spot where the caravan was attacked."

She quietly laughed as she ran her hand along the haft of the weapon. "It's my spear…O' all things you could find at that spot, ya found my spear."

He lightly shrugged, grinning. "Well, it's a good thing I found it, right? Seems like we're about to get into a bit o' a fight…"

"No." He looked down as Rán came over. "You two, Lovisa, and the dwarves are going to ride ahead," she ordered. "Girish and Tyko are still in the city, no doubt trapped now. I have sent Nakara and Kreine in to help, but the rest of us will remain at the pass to hopefully stop or hinder anything that comes out of the city." She looked between the two siblings. "If things do not go well, you must ride for Dorwinion. You will find safety in its capital."

Baylee shook her head. "No…Rán, they have dozens an' dozens o' warg riders. You seven won't stand a chance. It'd be better if ya came with us t' fight in a group!"

Rán gave her a comforting smile. "The pass is narrow, Lady Baylee," she told her. "Whatever comes our way will be forced to squeeze into small ranks in order to get through. That will give us a bit of an advantage, especially if we hide ourselves well enough. They will not expect our arrows piercing their hides."

She nodded slowly before handing something to Rán. "You can have this back," she told her. "It kept me safe, even if it did lead t' this mess."

Shaking her head, Rán lightly covered her hand and pressed it back to her. "You may yet need it again, Lady Baylee. Return it when our safety is guaranteed." She then looked up at Will. "I have put Dwalin in charge," she told him. "Listen to him and you should be safe."

Will nodded. "We will." As Rán walked off, he looked at the other dwarves. "Baylee, I think you best ride with Bofur instead of me," he quietly told her.

"Why's that?" she asked, frowning slightly.

He pulled his flail from his saddlebag. "Because when it comes time for us t' fight, I don't want t' accidentally bash you upside the head with this," he told her with a small chuckle. "So you'll ride with Bofur. Anyway, his mattock isn't the best of weapons to use when riding a horse –if it comes to that."

She nodded, though her cheeks flushed as her brother led her over to Bofur's horse. As they approached, Bofur was trying his best to climb atop the large creature, his arms flung over the saddle as he tried to hook his foot in the stirrup for a bit of leverage. The horse did not seem the least bit amused by this, and instead seemed to be rather relieved when Will grabbed Bofur's foot and hoisted him up properly.

"Thanks, lad," he grunted, righting himself. He smiled when he saw Baylee's silhouette beside the tall human.

"No trouble," he told him. "Baylee's goin' to ride with you. I'd have her with me, but with my flail, it's just too dangerous."

He nodded. "That sounds fine by me," he replied. As Will plucked up Baylee –much to her chagrin- he scooted forward in the saddle so that she would have plenty of room to sit. He was thankful it was dark; his cheeks were on fire.

It was then that Dwalin gave out a shout and the others started to trot off. Bofur flicked the reigns and the horse followed after. He glanced over his shoulder as he felt Baylee wrap her arms around him.

"How're you farin', lass?" he quietly asked her.

"I could be better…but we're goin' t' be safe soon, so I'll be fine." He couldn't see it, but he knew she wore a small smile. "What I really need is a bath t' get all this blood off o' me."

He patted her hand. "Bifur supposes it'll rain sometime tonight. That may help ya a wee bit."

"It may. For now, though, it's just horrible lookin' down an' see all that red. It's almost like my own stomach was cut open." She blinked, leaning back slightly as Bofur started to wriggle out of his vest. "What're you doin'?"

After a moment, he got the garment off. "Here," he told her, holding it over his shoulder. "Put this on. You won't have t' see the red anymore."

"It'll get blood on it, though…"

He laughed again. "Lass, it's seen its fair share o' blood since I've had it. A bit more won't do it any harm. Anyway…I hate t' say it, but none o' us are exactly at our cleanest right now. If anythin', it'll make you smell like us an' for that, I apologize because we reek."

She quietly giggled. "You've been travelin' the wilds. It's understandable." As she tugged the vest on, she peered over her shoulder, trying to see through the darkness. She hadn't any idea how Dwalin was able to lead them, but the horses were following behind him in a straight, uphill line. Pulling the vest close around her form, she wrapped her arms back around Bofur's chest, letting her eyes close. With the adrenaline rush of fighting Damayanti having dissipated, she felt hungry and exhausted.

Almost as if reading her mind, Bofur patted her hand again. "Go ahead an' try t' get some rest, lass," he quietly told her. "I won't let ya fall off."

"Thank you," she murmured, resting her cheek against his shoulder.

* 

"How much danger do you suppose we're in?"

"Quite a bit, t' be honest. I don't think Rán an' her rangers are goin' t' be much o' a match against a pack o' wargs."

"Not to mention their riders."

"Aye, tha' too. That's why I'm tryin' t' get as much distance between us an' them before we stop for a break." He glanced down at Ori as the smaller dwarf leaned back against his chest. Lifting his hand, he lightly caressed his cheek. "I'm sorry 'bout yer beard, Ori. Those wenches had no right t' shave it off."

Ori clasped his hand and kept it pressed against his face. "I know…at least it'll grow back now. They were havin' me shave at least twice a day because o' the stubble. I didn't even know how t' shave before this." Tilting his head back, he smiled up at Dwalin. "It may take a while, but it'll come back an' be even thicker now."

At that, Dwalin had to snort. "I don't know, Ori…yer beard wasn't very thick t' start off with." As Ori pouted, he grinned cheekily. "It was a nice beard, though. I'm sure it'll come back in even nicer, especially if we get yeh t' Gerdi. She's got all sorts o' ways t' make hair grow back faster an' thicker."

"Of course she would; she's the prettiest dwarrow lady in the whole of Erebor." He covered his mouth as he yawned; morning was dawning through the trees and they had yet to hear or see any sign of pursuit. "When we get back, I'll inquire about some brews, though…I feel so ugly without it."

Dwalin raised his brow and kissed the top of Ori's head. "Yer just as handsome as ever, beard or no." Leaning over, he gently nuzzled his cheek while sighing in content. "An' I've got yeh back. Things can only get better from here on out."

He nodded, letting his eyes close as she snuggled back against Dwalin's chest. "That they can…you know what I want to do when we get back t' Dale?"

"Hm?"

"Get drunk. The only alcohol I've had these past few weeks has been flavored with lemons. I need a good, strong ale or mead in my belly."

"Well, I can't argue with tha'. I'll make sure t' buy yeh plenty o' rounds when we get home. An' some food, too…We haven't had a decent meal in weeks."

Ori gave him a pitying kiss on the jaw. "That's where we did a bit better than you, but again…it mostly tasted o' lemons or mint. I don't think I ever want to see another lemon or mint sprig in my life."

"Well, mint's green…an' yeh hate green food."

"Exactly! It's rabbit food, not fit for our consumption."

Dwalin laughed heartily before giving Ori a tight squeeze. "Ah, lad…I've missed yeh, even if yeh complain 'bout strange things." He kissed his cheek. "I love yeh."

"Love you, too, Dwalin."

He was just about to kiss his lover on the lips when a howl filled the air. Dwalin cursed and turned the horse around, his eyes wide. In the distance, both he and Ori could see the shapes of at least twenty wargs and their riders racing towards them. They had no doubt that more followed behind.

"We can't outrun 'em!" Nori called out. "They're too fast an' the horses are too tired to go much further!"

Dwalin clenched his teeth. "We dwarves are useless on these horses anyway…" He felt a tug on his sleeve and glanced over, finding Lovisa.

'Me, Will, Baylee charge,' she told him. 'Have fought on horseback.'

"I can't risk the three o' yeh chargin' in an' dyin' –not when we just go Baylee back!"

'She ride well. Can fight!'

"It would be a good distraction, too," Ori quickly added. "It'll give us a chance t' get in a defensive position."

He nodded quickly. "Everyone, listen up!" he shouted. "We don't have much time –Will, yeh, Baylee, an' Lovisa are goin' t' charge after the wargs on the horses! The rest o' us are goin' t' fight on the ground –we're better off with our feet planted." As he spoke, he and Ori dismounted, gathering their weapons.

"What?" Bofur cried. "That's too dangerous! What if one o' them-" He faltered as he felt Baylee take the reins from him. "Baylee, you can't go out there like tha'…"

She set her hand on his cheek. "I have to. I'll have an advantage over them this way." She glanced over at Will and Lovisa who were ready to charge. "Ya need t' dismount, Bofur. They'll be here any second."

Clenching his jaw, he nodded stiffly. "Lass, if ya die, I won't forgive you."

Baylee managed a smile. "An' I won't forgive you if you die, either."

As he got off of the horse, she slid forward in the saddle and guided the animal over to Lovisa and Will. Gripping his mattock, he swallowed hard as the three of them prepared their weapons. He backed up so that he was standing between Bifur and Nori, not letting his eyes leave the sight of the horses; he didn't even notice that he had started to cry.

The growling was getting ever closer; Will was twitching in his seat and Lovisa was putting the shafts of three arrows between her teeth while nocking a fourth one. Baylee, though, sat up straight in the saddle, her spear gripped in her hand. All three wore the same look of determination. Dwalin shouted at them when the howls and growls were nearly a hundred yards away. The trio of horses took off into the darkness and Bofur caught himself shouting at them to stay safe and whole.

Seconds later, the dwarves could hear snarling and howls of pain. They gripped their weapons in anticipation, their eyes darting about. Nori swallowed hard.

"Someone…someone try t' stay behind me," he told the others, not caring that his voice betrayed his fear. "Please. I don't want t' have rescued Zori only for him t' get hurt like this."

"Don't worry," Ori told him, holding Dwalin's war hammer. "I've got your back." He reached behind him and set a hand on Nori's shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

And then the wargs came.

It seemed like they had come from all sides in endless droves. The only relief they saw was that most of the beasts lacked riders. For many minutes, the dwarves did their best to stay in their defensive circle, but it was soon broken and they were left scattered, Bifur having chased a group of wargs into the east and Bofur heading south. Dwalin had his back to a tree, his axes slicing through human and warg alike. In the middle of it all, their backs nearly pressing together, were Nori and Ori, fighting not only to keep themselves safe, but Zori as well.

But there were no signs of Will, Lovisa, or Baylee.

A pained cry filled the forest: Bofur. A warg had jumped on him from behind, pinning him to the ground. Grabbing onto his shoulder with its teeth, it flung him into the air, his body slamming against a tree. Curses flew from his mouth as he scrambled to his knees, trying to crawl towards his mattock despite the pain in his back.

The warg jumped in the way, snarling menacingly at him. Bofur froze, fear having paralyzed him. For a brief second, a scene from his past filled his vision. All he could see was a dying dwarf woman in his arms, her body rent by warg teeth.

"You leave him alone!"

His head snapped up in time to see the end of a spear pierce the side of the warg's neck. It let out a gurgling growl and toppled over as a Baylee rode towards it, leaning over to retrieve her weapon. Bofur got to his feet, calling out his thanks to her as he dashed for his mattock.

Just as his fingers gripped its shaft, Baylee cried out.

Spinning around, he watched in horror as she was ripped off of her mare by another warg, its teeth sunk nearly to the gum in her thigh and hip. Pure anger filled Bofur and he shouted, his mattock raised as he ran at the beast. It shook Baylee in its jaws before dropping her in a heap. As it saw the dwarf, it made to leap into the air, but did not make it that far.

Bofur slammed his mattock down with all his strength, feeling bone shatter and brain gush under the flat of his weapon. Blood and brain matter splattered onto his face, though he paid it no mind –this warg had a rider and she was just as angry as him.

Jumping off her fallen mount, the woman raced at Bofur, two large, curved blades in hand. He winced, barely able to block her blows with the handle of his mattock. A curse flew from his mouth as his feet were knocked out from underneath him by the woman and he fell back, positive he was about to die-

A blur of pinto crashed atop the woman. He looked up, seeing Baylee back in the saddle, her spear back in her hand. She grinned down at him before turning her horse and riding off.

*

Bifur had killed at least five wargs and three women. He wasn't proud of killing the women, but given the size of the wargs, he couldn't help but feel prideful of their slayings. Now, however, he was pinned against a tree with three armed women blocking him. His spear in hand, he kept his eyes darting around, looking for anything else he could use to aid in his escape.

One of the women lunged at him, a sword in one hand and a shield in the other. Bifur used the sharp end of his spear to block the sword while he brought the butt of it around, trying to knock it into the woman's face. It hit her shield instead. She stabbed at his stomach, but he hopped out of the way only to let out a cry. A second woman had brought her blade across his back, cackling evilly. He was thankful he wore so many layers –if he had worn less, the blow may have been deadly.

Spinning around, he slashed down with his spear, watching the woman fall to the ground, her face cloven. The third woman leapt forward onto his back, wrapping a thin, metal wire around his neck. She pulled it extra tight so that her garrote would choke him through all his hair and beard. He reached back and grabbed her wrists before flinging her over his head. The action sent both of them flying to the ground.

The first woman raised her sword, ready to bring it down through Bifur's neck when an arrow flew into her skull. Before she could get up, the second woman also got an arrow, but this one was to the throat. Bifur sat up, tapping his fingers against his chin at Lovisa as she rode by. He felt his cheeks flush as she winked at him –it had been a rather flirtatious wink.

*

"Y'know, Ori –you're gettin' pretty good with that hammer!"

"It's not a hard weapon t' use."

"How many have you slain so far? Seven? Eight?"

"Truthfully, I haven't been keepin' track."

"Oh. Shame." He brought his knife across the throat of a woman. "I've gotten six. How's Zori?"

Ori glanced over his shoulder, able to peek at the wailing child. Absolutely no harm had come to him, bringing some relief to his heart. "Besides bein' scared out of his mind, he's fine."

"Good, good. How're you holding up?"

"I'm exhausted." He brought the hammer across the face of a charging warg, halting the beast in its tracks.

"Me too."

"How many are left?"

"At least fifteen. I'm damned sure they sent out all o' their wargs and riders to hunt us down."

"I wouldn't doubt it."

"Who, exactly, did Baylee kill t' warrant this much hatred?"

"Well, it was both of us, though she dealt the death blow…and it was the queen." He yelped as another warg raced for him and he raised his hammer, but it was not fast enough.

Nori cried out as the warg tackled his brother to the ground, a yowl of pain leaving Ori's mouth. Nori stabbed both his knives into the warg's hide and dragged them down the length of the creature's flank. Its guts spilled out onto the ground and onto Nori's boots, but he continued to slash and stab at it until it slumped over, dead. Grabbing the beast's neck, he hauled it off of Ori, fearing the worst.

"Oh thank Mahal!" he cried out as Ori sat up, coughing. He fell to his knees and hugged his brother tightly, biting his lower lip. "I thought it killed you."

"I'm tougher than I look," Ori weakly chuckled, patting his arm. "I'm sure it broke my arm, though. I can't use that hammer one-handed. It's too big."

Nori looked around. Not many wargs or their riders were left. "Come on then," he quietly told him. "Stay behind me. Take my knives; I'll use the hammer. Stay between me an' the tree, alright? I'll keep you both safe."

*

It was full daylight now and the battle over. Dwalin didn't know how he was still standing, but he was. His shoulders and chest heaved with the effort to breathe and his head was a ball of searing pain. In the midst of the battle, a warg had managed to claw his face. Ever since, he had been unable to see out of his right eye; he hoped it was something that could be cured.

He was able to see the sheer numbers of wargs and riders that had been slaughtered throughout the morning. All around him were the bodies of the slain, and yet he could see no sign of his friends. Cupping his hands around his mouth, he shouted out and waited for any replies. A wave of relief washed over him as he heard Nori and Ori call from somewhere nearby. Bifur's voice came from somewhere in the far distance and a high-pitched bird call signaled Lovisa's position.

But then more calls filled the air. Frowning, he turned round only to see Rán and her rangers galloping towards the raider massacre, not a single one of them left uninjured. Three of their horses had been killed, leaving some of them having to ride two to a horse. He was just about to smile when a last call came.

_"HELP!"_

His head snapped to the west; that was Bofur's voice. As he started to run in his direction, Rán spurred her horse and bolted ahead of him.

"Where are you, Bofur?" she shouted.

"I don't know! I jus' need help! Please!" came his desperate voice.

"We are coming!" Unfamiliar hoof beats filled her ears and, risking a glance to her left, she saw a bloodied Lovisa, her quiver long empty and bow broken, riding just a few yards away. She winced; her whole body ached thanks to a hard fall from the middle of a tree. She was positive she had at least three fractured –if not broken- ribs, but she had to ignore the pain for now.

The two women reached the top of a small hill and brought their steeds to a halt. Bofur stood, frozen, at the bottom of the hill. Something akin to a cry of horror left Lovisa's mouth and she scrambled off of her horse, racing towards him. Rán, however, was rooted to her saddle, her skin having gone pale and her stomach starting to churn.

Surrounded by a ring of slain wargs and raiders were Will and Baylee, their hands clasped and the earth beneath them soaked in a pool of blood.


	21. Chapter 21

Lovisa had her forehead resting on her knuckles as she prayed to Estë, goddess of rest and healing. Lying before her were Will and Baylee, their bodies wrapped with bandages and coated by medicinal pastes. Three days had passed since the battle and the twins had only briefly come to consciousness when arrowheads or warg teeth were pulled from their bodies.

No one knew how they had managed to survive. Their wounds would have left other men –and women- dead. They should have left the twins dead. And yet…there they lay, unconscious but breathing. If anything, they had improved over the last two days, with color returning to their skin and their lesser wounds already beginning to close.

Despite this bit of good, Lovisa knew well enough that the two of them had a long road to recovery. Will's shoulder and back had suffered quite a mauling and he would more than likely live the rest of his life with a limp in his right leg. Baylee had deep scratch marks along her face and chest while the healer had had to wrench two warg teeth from her thigh. And that did not even include the various arrows that they had been pierced by…

She looked up when the door creaked open and Bifur poked his head in. He gave her a tired smile and stepped in, holding a steaming bowl of soup for her. Carefully walking over to her, he set it on a nearby stool.

'Thank you,' she signed, sitting upright. Her back ached as she did so, but she ignored the pain. The injuries she had sustained from the battle had been relatively minor –a few bites and scratches along with a nice, deep sword gash on her outer thigh, though her ribs ached something awful. Hunil had told her that nothing was broken, though she would hurt for many a week to come.

'How hold up?' he asked her, his head tilted. There was a very concerned expression on his face as he gazed down at her.

She shrugged. 'Am alive.' Glancing back at the twins, she sighed and gently picked up the bowl.

'Either wake?' he asked.

Lovisa shook her head, blowing on the top of the soup before slowly sipping it.

'Will wake soon. Know it.' Adjusting his belt slightly, he slowly lowered himself onto the stool, the cuts on his back protesting the action a bit.

For many long minutes, Bifur sat beside Lovisa as she drank her soup. Once in a while, he would glimpse at her, finding a fresh tear rolling down her cheek or her trying to blink one away. He knew how awful she had felt; he had gone through the same pain of having to watch Bofur and Bombur lie on what he had been sure were their deathbeds after the War.

Eventually, Lovisa leaned forward to set her now-empty bowl on the floor, but she winced. Taking the bowl from her, Bifur set it on the ground before pulling a handkerchief from his pocket. He used it to softly wipe the tears from Lovisa's cheeks and carefully wiping her nose and chin. A wobbling smile came to her lips, but it quickly faded as she let out a soft sob.

Scooting his stool forward, Bifur wrapped an arm around her shoulders, letting her rest her head against his shoulder. He lightly rubbed her shoulder and took her hand, giving it a supportive squeeze before signing into her palm.

'They wake soon. Just need wait.'

~*~*~

_They were hopelessly outnumbered and yet they fought._

_Back to back, Will and Baylee fought the onslaught of wargs and their riders. They were both exhausted and had suffered grievous injuries, but they continued to fight. Something inside of the twins told them that if they could last just a little longer, they could soon rest -that they needed to keep their sibling safe._

_Baylee had been the first to give out. Her foot slipping in the blood-soaked ground, she cursed and fell back. Her spear left her hand, but despite her efforts to reach for it, she could only roll onto her stomach. A quiet sob left her mouth as she weakly reached for her spear._

_A shadow was suddenly cast over her and her spear was lifted off of the ground. Will stood above her, holding both her spear and his flail. "I'll keep ya safe, Baylee," he told her._

_One of the riders urged her mount forward, but just yards away, the warg toppled over, the spear lodged in its throat. She rolled off of the beast, drawing a set of matching knives as she snarled. Baylee cringed; it was Zuza._

_"Give up queenslayer!" she snarled, pointing one of the blades at Baylee._

_"You'll get her over my dead body!" barked Will, readying his flail._

_Zuza let out a cry and ran forward, ducking under his flail as he swung. His free hand caught her wrist before she could stab him in the stomach, but a curse left his throat as he felt her second blade plunge into his side. With a quick, but strong, flick of his arm, he broke her wrist and brought the chain of his flail around her neck._

_Both cried out as Zuza suddenly fell backwards; down they tumbled. Landing atop the raider, Will cursed again, but had enough senses left to pull his chain tight around the woman's throat. She struggled beneath him for some minutes, trying to stab at him again, but missing. When her body went limp, Will groaned and slumped backwards._

_"I didn't mean t' make you fall."_

_He tilted his head back, seeing Baylee just a foot away from him. Her skin, pale, was covered in blood and dirt. "You did good, Baylee," he mumbled, moving his hand towards her. He wore an exhausted grin._

_She clasped his hand, smiling tiredly. "We were a good team."_

_"We are a good team," he corrected, his thumb stroking the back of her hand. "We'll live t' fight again."_

_"I don't think I can, Will. I'm so tired."_

_He frowned. "Baylee…Don't you dare talk like that. You're strong. I'm strong. We're strong. We're goin' t' make it through this." He squeezed her hand tightly. "Do you hear me, 'Lee? We're goin' t' make it. You know why?"_

_Her eyes were starting to drift shut. "Why?"_

_"Because we need t' go home. Both o' us."_

_She weakly gave his hand a squeeze. "But I hurt. Everywhere hurts. It's not like the War. I'm not numb like I was then." She slowly opened her eyes and looked at him. "I'm sorry. All o' this happened because o' me. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, Will."_

_"This would o' happened whether you killed someone or not, 'Lee." He pulled her hand to his lips and lightly kissed it. "An' I would fight a thousand more wargs if it meant havin' ya free o' those raiders."_

_"I know ya would." She managed to smile again._

_"Anyway…'Lee, you got t' live. You're goin' t' be an aunt soon."_

_"…What?"_

_He tiredly nodded; his own eyelids were starting to grow heavy and he let them slowly close. "Adela's pregnant, 'Lee. I wanted ya t' be the first t' know, but…Well, shit happens, doesn't it?" He squeezed her hand again. "So ya need t' live t' see your niece or nephew. Maybe both. We don't know."_

_"I always knew you'd have a family first. Especially when ya told me 'bout Adela." She watched him, smiling wearily. "You'd be a good da'."_

_"Someday, you'll be a good mum."_

_"Will…?"_

_"Aye?"_

_"If I don't make it-"_

_"You're going to make it." His tone was firm, but his voice weak._

_"If I don't, though, can ya promise me somethin'?"_

_He swallowed hard. It was getting harder and harder to stay conscious. "Alright."_

_"Tell Bofur I'm sorry. Tell everyone I'm sorry. They came all this way…"_

_Will's grip on her hand had gone limp._

_"Will?"_

_He didn't move._

_"Will!" She gripped his hand, sobbing, but he did not move. "William, don't ya dare leave me…Stay here! I promise I won't leave if ya don't! WILL!"_

 

Will bolted upright in his bed, gasping. His eyes wide, he quickly looked around only to find that he wasn't in the forest –he was in some strange room. Baylee lay in a bed some feet away; she, too, had bolted upright and was gasping for breath.

"Baylee!" Scrambling out of his bed (and ignoring any pain he felt), he crawled into hers and scooped her up. "Oh thank the gods…thank the gods…"

"I thought you were dead," she sobbed, clinging onto him. "You stopped talkin' an' you went limp an' you wouldn't move! Don't you do that to me again! It was like watchin' ma all over again. Don't you dare do tha' again!"

"I swear it, 'Lee. I swear." He kissed the top of his head, letting out shaky sobs. "An' don't you dare have me make a promise like tha' again, you hear? You had me so scared, talkin' like you were goin' t' die."

She could only nod, her voice lost amidst her mixture of sobs and laughter.

The door to the room opened and Lovisa froze, seeing the twins wide awake and clinging onto one another. Tears instantly filled her eyes and she dashed towards them, hugging them tightly. Behind her stood a very shocked, but relieved, Hunil. As the healer of the rangers, he had been putting all his skill and effort into healing the twins –as well as Dwalin, Bofur, and Rán.

For a few moments, he stood by, remaining silent as he let Lovisa reunite with the twins. He was trying to figure out how Will had managed to get out of bed; his wounds should have been too severe to keep him from moving. Baylee, too, had moved about, despite her own injuries. They should have been in too much pain to even lift a finger…Then again, they were from Dale and Dale-dwellers were hardy folk.

"Am glad to see you awake," he told them when five minutes had passed.

Lovisa pulled back from them, wiping her nose on her sleeve. She wore a large smile, the first one that Hunil had seen from her.

"How long were we unconscious?" Will asked, still holding onto Baylee.

"This is fifth day."

He nodded slowly, the aches and pains of his injuries finally starting to throb their way into his mind. Wincing, he gently set Baylee down against her pillows. "I don't think I should have bolted out o' bed like that…" he mumbled, slowly walking back towards his bed.

"If you hadn't, I would have," Baylee chuckled. Her own body was starting to hurt, but she was too happy to care at the moment.

Hunil shook his head, chuckling as he set a bag down on the foot of Will's bed. "Would not have thought that you could move about so soon."

"Our family is tough," Will grinned as he shoved a pillow behind him. He flinched as he slowly lowered himself back, his side protesting to the action. "You've seen our dad. He's bigger 'n me." He held out his arm as Hunil started to unwrap a bandage from it.

"Lovisa, could check Lady Baylee's wounds?" he asked, glancing over his shoulder.

She nodded and moved between the beds, pulling a changing curtain open between them. Being very gently, she helped lift the loose shirt from Baylee's body before starting to unravel the bandages around her chest.

"Where are we?" Baylee asked, wincing as she had to sit up again. Looking down, she cringed –there were deep gashes going down from her left shoulder and across her breast.

"Are in Rëma," Hunil answered. He peeled some of the medicinal leaves from Will's arm, exposing a deep set of claw marks. "City on southern border of Dorwinion. Not home, but large enough to be safe."

Baylee glanced towards the curtain. "So, some of the riders escaped, then?"

"Just three. One surrendered; said she did not want to fight."

"What does she look like?"

"Not know. Ashailyn and Nakara deal with her."

Will flinched as Hunil started to dab a strange, purple liquid onto the claw marks. "If Nakara is back, does that mean he and Girish were able to get Tyko?"

"Yes. Tyko is fine. Lost fingers, like Lady Baylee, but is unhurt. Missed battles." They both heard Baylee yelp in pain.

Frowning, Will instinctively started to push himself up, but Hunil stopped him. "You alright, 'Lee?"

"Aye, sorry! It's just some o' the medicine –it stings somethin' awful."

"Oh, tha' it does."

Half an hour later, their bandages had been changed and Lovisa and Hunil left them so that they could fetch food. Propped up on their pillows, the siblings were left alone in the room, the windows across from them wide open to allow the cool sea air to waft in. Shifting, Baylee rubbed her hip; it had been the worst of her injuries, Hunil told her, and he wasn't sure if she would ever walk properly again. Will meanwhile, quietly sighed and relaxed his head against the headboard.

She smiled as she looked at him. "How far along is Adela?"

"Hm?" He cracked open an eye and glanced at her. "Oh…We're not sure," he admitted. "We're thinkin' maybe five months? Though, that was when we found out…She may be seven or eight now."

Giving her twin a dry look, she crossed her arms. "…Will, how long ago did ya find out?"

"'Bout a month after you left. An' that reminds me! She's livin' at the inn now."

Her brows furrowed in confusion. "What? Since when?"

He quietly chuckled. "Well, 'bout two weeks after you left." He rubbed the back of his neck. "Her dad found out about us and kicked her out, but not before shaming her in front o' all his patrons."

She frowned. "He did what?"

"Aye, an' dad wasn't too happy 'bout that. Oh, you should have seen me an' him shouting at ol' Mannus-"

"Wait, papa yelled at Mannus?"

"Oh, o' course he did! After what he did t' Adela, who wouldn't yell at him?" He gave her a small smile; inwardly, he frowned. He didn't like seeing his big sister wrapped up in so many bandages, especially since she was so much smaller than him. "So Adela's livin' with us and she's pregnant. I wanted you t' be the first t' know, but…things happened. No doubt everyone else knows by now, too. I mean, Adela's got some nice curves on her, but a baby bump is just one o' those curves you can't hide." He quietly chuckled and shook his head. "So aye. You'll be an auntie here soon."

Baylee gave him an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry."

He rolled his eyes, quietly laughing. "Stop bein' so damned sorry, Baylee. None o' this was your fault. It was those raiders who did this. Not you."

"I know…it's just, I feel bad all this happened."

Again, he laughed. "It's your nature. You wish everythin' can be sunshine and sunflowers."

"But I know tha' sometimes things are bloody and full o' pain."

Opening his mouth to say something, Will didn't have the chance to speak as the door opened. They were expecting Lovisa and Hunil again, but instead, Bofur and Dwalin poked their heads into the room. Their eyes widened and they let out laughs when they found the two siblings wide awake.

"See?" Dwalin grinned. "I told yeh they'd wake up soon enough!" He lightly punched Bofur's arm, not noticing the flinch it brought about. Shoving his way into the room, Will and Baylee could see that the right side of his face was almost completely wrapped in bandages.

Bofur shuffled in behind them, having a bit of a limp. While his face didn't have bandages, Baylee and Will could see that there were two large scratches across the width of his face. "An' it's about time, too! The two o' you had us scared beyond all hope, 'specially when I found ya both just lyin' in a puddle o' blood. I didn't know if it was yours or the enemy's…"

"You were the one who found us?" Baylee frowned, pushing herself to sit up a bit more. Dwalin leaned over, giving her a big hug that made two of her vertebrae pop back into place.

"Aye." He stood at the foot of Will's bed, leaning on it for support. "Nearly thought you were goners, but the two o' you were still breathin'."

Dwalin pulled back and observed the two of them, his hands on his hips. "Look at the two o' yeh! Nearly dead five days ago an' now yer sittin' up an' talkin' like yeh got wee scratches!" he grinned. "How d'yeh manage that?"

"It's in our blood, I guess," Will laughed. While the dwarves couldn't hear it, Baylee noticed a hint of apprehension to his tone.

"Must be," Bofur agreed. He hobbled his way over to Baylee so that he could give her a hug as well. Reaching the edge of her bed, he had to sit down due of his leg, but he turned towards Baylee when she pulled him to her and embraced him. "You had me so scared," he mumbled, his voice loud enough only for her ears to hear.

"I didn't mean to scare ya," she murmured, giving him an extra squeeze. "But someone had t' keep an eye on Will."

"I know, lass. I know." He lightly rubbed her back, smiling. "Everything's just goin' t' be getting better now, though. We're all safe, even if a little worse for wear."

Turning her head, Baylee lightly kissed his temple. "How bad are ya hurt?"

"Not near as bad as you, lass," he chuckled as she pulled back. He gave her a comforting smile as she cupped his cheek. "Some bites an' scratches here an' there…an' something's off with my leg, but Hunil says it's just a minor sprain from when I fell downhill. I'll be limpin' for a while."

She nodded in understanding, her thumb unconsciously stroking his skin. She wanted to tell him how badly she had missed him, but she couldn't do it in front of Will. He would end up teasing her about it. "I'm glad I got t' that warg in time," she murmured. "Don't think I could live with myself if I couldn't have stopped it."

A teasing grin suddenly came to his lips. "T' be entirely truthful, lass, I don't think I ever expected a woman o' your size t' look so fierce." Taking her hand from his cheek, he lightly held it between his hands, gently stroking her bandages. "I honestly thought tha' Oromë decided t' take on a female form an' come save me."

Will and Dwalin, who had been holding their own conversation, looked over as Baylee burst into a fit of giggles. Dwalin raised his good brow, a small smile coming to his lips. It was good to hear laughter again.

"Honestly!" Bofur continued. "Here I am, lookin' down death's throat an' next thing I know, there's this radiant beam o' light an' there you go, majestically riding by an' savin' my life." He grinned as she continued to giggle.

"But then a different warg went an' yanked me off o' my horse!" she told him. "So, I don't think Oromë would have chosen me for a vessel."

He shrugged. "You never know. For thirty seconds, ya could have hosted one o' the Valar."

Will cracked up now. "Oh, I don't doubt that Oromë was present somewhere durin' that fight –elsewise, how did we all live?" He winced slightly and leaned back against his pillows again. "Anyone know where Lovisa got to? She told us she was bringin' us some food."

"We saw her headin' into the kitchen when we were comin' up," Dwalin answered. "Knowin' her, she's bringing yeh lots an' lots o' food. She's been makin' sure we all eat as much as our bellies can hold."

Bofur grinned cheekily. "Not that we mind much," he chirped. "The food here is quite good."

"There's no mint in it, is there?" Baylee inquired, her tone wary.

Dwalin shook his head. "No. Well, there's some, but not much."

She sighed. "Good. I've had enough mint t' last me a lifetime." Glancing up at the large dwarf, she tilted her head. "How bad is your head wound?"

He let out a sigh and looked at the floor, lightly kicking it with his boot. "Don't have right eye anymore," he admitted. "But I'm not lettin' that stop me from fightin'." He grinned broadly.

"If anything, it'll make ya look tougher," Will told him. He turned his head towards the door as Lovisa and Bifur came in, each bearing a tray of food. Just as Dwalin had predicted, the trays were full of edible delights. "It's a good thing I'm starvin', because if I wasn't, I don't think I could eat half of what you've brought us, Lovisa."

A small laugh left her throat as she carried a tray over to Baylee's side of the room. Bofur took it from her before setting it over the small woman's lap. 'Not eat well for weeks. Need good food! Build up weight again. Build up strength.' She pointed a finger at Baylee. 'Just need weight. And not get out bed two days, young lady.'

Baylee lightly pouted as she started to open up a still-hot biscuit so she could fill it with butter and honey. "Why two days? Will got out o' his already." Bofur noticed that her hands were shaking slightly and she seemed to wince every time she moved her fingers.

'He bigger, stronger. Not lose as much blood. You need rest. Lots rest.' She walked across the room and started to clean up a bit of the mess she and Hunil had made earlier.

Still wearing the pout, Baylee took a bite out of the biscuit. 'Can walk,' she definitely signed.

Chewing on a piece of fish, Will grinned. 'Listen to Lovisa,' he signed. 'Not want spanking!'

'Not spanked as much as you. Trouble maker,' she smirked.

'Then she put in corner for time out.'

Bofur and Dwalin snorted, causing Lovisa to turn around. 'What they sign?' she demanded.

'Love you!' the twins signed in unison, pointing at Lovisa. Their too-innocent smiles and giggles betrayed them and Lovisa rolled her eyes, shaking her head.

'Children…'

~*~

Later in the day found Dwalin sitting outside, enjoying the warmth of the late-afternoon. He had his eye closed and head tilted back towards the sky as he sat on a bench, letting his skin be warmed by the sun. Despite his body being filled with aches and pains, the sunlight somehow managed to make him feel much better. He let out a quiet sigh, not hearing the smaller dwarf approach.

"You look rather content."

He opened his eyes, startled to find Ori walking towards him. From the elbow down, the scribe's arm was held stiff by a splint. "I thought yeh had gone in for a nap?" He scooted over, letting Ori share his bench.

Before sitting down, Ori stole a kiss from Dwalin. "I couldn't sleep. At least, not without you by my side." He rested his head against Dwalin's arm. "I've missed you too much."

Wrapping his arm around Ori's shoulders, he chuckled. "I've missed yeh too, lad," he quietly told him. "An' now I've got yeh back. Can't say I'm too willin' t' let yeh go wanderin' off anymore, though."

"Understandable. Though, it was a completely unforeseeable event…" He closed his eyes, his unhurt hand moving to clasp Dwalin's hand. "But I don't want t' leave home for a long while. I've had enough adventures for now."

"Yeh've got one left –goin' home." Dwalin entwined their fingers, smiling gently. "But that'll be a whole lot easier than gettin' here, eh, lad?"

"So long as you're by my side, I think I can manage. Though, I do wonder about Dori's reaction to all that's happened…Nori told me that there hadn't been time to tell him."

"Oh, he'll be mighty upset for sure. Not just 'bout yeh, either. I don't think he'd appreciate the new addition t' yer family…"

Ori lightly shrugged. "He may, actually. He's been telling Nori that he needs to learn some responsibility an' I think Zori's a good way t' bring some sense to him." Opening his eyes, he looked out across the gardens of the healing house. "He's a cute lil' bugger, though. I'm glad Nori saved him."

"Aye…though, soon as Nori starts doin' wrong by him, I'm takin' him."

He snorted. "What?"

"Yeh heard me. Soon as Nori starts messin' up an' doesn't seem t' be changin' for the better, I'm takin' the wee fellow an' yeh an' me can raise him. We'll do it right." He brought Ori a bit closer to him. "Personally, I think yeh'd make a good father. Yeh'd be like Dori, only less…"

"Of a fusspot?" he suggested. Dwalin grinned, nodding. "I don't know. I wouldn't know where t' start with a baby. I mean, Baylee made me hold her cousin down in Lake Town an' I didn't have the slightest idea of what to do."

Dwalin chuckled, shaking his head. "No one's really prepared for a baby, unless they're Bombur an' Gerdi. They've got so many children…"

Ori gave him a small look. "Dwalin, we're two males. It's a wee bit hard for us to unexpectedly get pregnant."

"I'm jus' sayin', lad! When a baby comes into a person's life, they're not really ready for it, regardless o' what they think." Kissing the top of Ori's head, he quietly sighed and rested his chin atop his skull. "I see yeh've got a fine bit of stubble comin' back," he murmured, changing the subject.

Knowingly rolling his eyes, Ori quietly laughed. "It's a good thing we dwarrows are hairy folk. I may have a beard again before we reach Dale. A small one, but a beard nonetheless."

Smirking, Dwalin reached up and stroked his stubbled skin with his thumb, making Ori blush darkly. "Yeh never know. It may be decently sized by the time we get back." He snickered as Ori lightly tugged on his beard. "Might be enough for a wee lil' braid or two."

"Don't get your hopes up," he murmured, glancing away shyly. He froze, seeing Nori standing some yards away, his brow raised and a hand on his hip. Zori was strapped to his back via a proper sling, babbling away as babies were wont to do. "Er…hello, Nori."

Dwalin looked up, his eyes wide as he mentally cursed. Nori did know about 'them', but it was still an awkward thing to be caught by his lover's brother…

"An' here I thought I wouldn't be interrupting anythin' or anyone," mused Nori. He dismissively waved his hand and walked by. "Don't mind me. I'm just out here to get some air. That place is getting too stuffy with all o' the cookin' going on."

"Ah, but it's good food," Dwalin commented. "Haven't been able t' each as much as we want for nearly a month now…An', since all o' us are on the mend, we need all o' the food an' drink we can get." He grinned cheekily.

Nori raised his brow, grinned. "With the way you eat, you'll empty this city of food in a few days."

"I'm not Bombur!"

"Ah, but you can eat just as much as him, given enough food," Nori grinned. He winced slightly as Zori managed to wriggle his hands around his braid and yanked his head back. "Ack! Zori, no chewing on my hair!"

Laughing, Ori shook his head. "It seems Zori's not gettin' enough food. You may want to take him in and find him some cookies to nibble on. I think Lovisa said she was going to make some, after all."

It was not Nori who perked at this news, but Dwalin. "Cookies, yeh say?" he repeated, trying to hide his excitement. "Did she say what kind?"

"No, though I don't doubt they'll be good. I had some of her cookies when we were in Lake Town and they were quite delicious. I'm sure you would approve of them, even if they weren't made by Balin."

"Well…someone best warn her about Dwalin's love for the things so she can hide them," Nori told them, his hands trying to free his braid from Zori's hands and mouth. He was thankful that it wasn't his hair the child was chewing on, but the metal clasp. 'I'll have to get him something to teethe on that isn't in my hair,' he thought to himself.

~*~

_"Do you not believe you can feel like queen?"_

_Her cheeks had felt like a furnace as she gazed down into her cup. She mumbled something, but what it was, she wasn't even sure._

_"What was that?" With a glance up, she could see the queen doting unwanted affections along Ori's neck and shoulders._

_'Why do you keep doing that? It's all too obvious he's not going to respond to you,' she had thought. 'Ori isn't into females. Are you that confident in your beauty?' With a small gulp, she mustered up enough courage to reply. "I said I could, but not because o' silks or jewelry."_

_"Then how would you make self feel like queen, hm?" Damayanti wore a small smile, almost as if she weren't paying attention to her words._

_"I was always told that when I fight the right man t' love, he'd make me feel like a queen. Not with fancy gifts, but with his affection."_

_The queen had given her a dirty look, no amusement in her eyes. She pulled back from Ori and crossed her legs, leaning forward slightly. Looking at Baylee, she wore a mocking grin. "Bah. And who told you that? A man, no doubt. Such a silly thing to say, no? Only a man can make a woman feel like a queen…"_

_Anger suddenly flared up within her chest and Baylee was unable to keep herself quiet. "It was my mother who told me tha'," she had boldly stated. "An' I believe her because my father made her feel like the queen o' Lake Town every day that they were together." Meeting the queen's gaze, she clenched her teeth, but did not shy away from the look._

_For a long moment, Damayanti was quiet –a dangerous sort of quiet. Baylee shakily took a drink from her cup, listening as Damayanti and Vlasta exchanged a few words in their native tongue before summoning her guard. The guard grabbed hold of her wrists and yanked her forward, making her cry out in pain. She tried to struggle free of the grip, but the guard only held on tighter._

_Damayanti was drawing a knife and telling her, in a sickly sweet voice, that it would only hurt for a few days. She forced Baylee to splay her hands before lifting the knife up. And then, quick as lighting, she brought it down-_

Baylee gasped, her eyes snapping open. She found herself staring at a white ceiling that was lit by the early-morning sun. Quietly groaning, she pushed herself to sit upright before rubbing her face.

"Will?" she murmured, her voice slightly muffled by her hands. When no reply came, she looked over to his bed only to find it empty. "Oh, that's right…you're allowed t' get up an' walk around…" she grumbled. Slumping back against the pillows, she sighed.

The previous morning, she had tried to walk around the room, despite Lovisa's orders, though she barely made it to the foot of her bed. Not for lack of strength, but because of the pain that would flare up in her right thigh and hip. She had stayed in bed since, not quite willing to suffer the agony again just yet.

She reached over to the nightstand and grabbed a cloth bag that lay there. Dumping its contents onto her stomach, she slightly grinned; it had contained four large warg teeth. From what she had been told, two of them had been removed from her thigh while the other two came from Will's shoulder. They had been saved because Hunil thought that they would be good trophies to show others what they had lived through.

Picking up the largest one –it was almost as big as her hand- Baylee closely inspected it. 'I hope Will's arm isn't damaged any further,' she thought. 'If he's going to be a father like he said, then he'll need all the strength he can get.' She smiled at the mental image of Will holding a baby. 'He'll be a good papa…and Adela should be a good mother. She's sweet and already rather motherly to Will.'

Picking up a different tooth, she tilted her head. 'This almost matches Bofur's earring. It matches the size of one of my puncture wounds for sure, though.' Turning it over in her hands, an idea started to form in her mind. 'He did kill that warg, so it'd be right for him to own this tooth. It just needs a bit of cleaning and some metal to cap it and make the hook…'

The door creaked open and, glancing over, she saw Bofur poking his head in. He smiled when he saw that she was awake.

"I would have knocked, but I didn't want t' wake ya if you were still sleepin'," he quietly told her. Pushing the door the rest of the way open, he came in with a tray of food. "Lovisa's orders, I'm t' make sure you eat at least three quarters o' this food."

Baylee rolled her eyes and laughed as she rearranged the pillows behind her. Sitting up, she winced as her leg and back twinged, but did her best to ignore them. "I can barely eat half o' all that! Does she think I'm Will or somethin'?" She slid the teeth back into the bag before tossing it onto the nightstand.

"Well, you two are twins, as different as you look," he chuckled. Grabbing one of Will's pillows, he set it over her lap before resting the tray on top of it. "Maybe she thinks you've the same size stomachs?"

She quietly laughed, moving to pour some honey into her porridge. "Ah, I doubt that. She knows well enough that I can't eat nearly as much as him." She was glad to see that he looked more rested than he had when she woke up two days ago. Despite this, though, she could see that he still had small bags under his eyes. "Have ya already eaten?"

He shook his head. "No. Just had some tea is all so far."

"Then maybe ya can help me," she chuckled, offering him one of her biscuits as he sat down on the edge of her bed.

He chuckled, shaking his head. "I wouldn't want t' bring about Lovisa's wrath, lass."

She continued to tempt him with it. "I know you're hungry," she told him. "Lovisa doesn't have t' know. It's just a wee biscuit. Maybe some o' the bacon an' eggs. It's not too much. C'mon…" A triumphant grin came to her lips as, taking the biscuit, he laughed.

"Alright, alrigh'!" He pulled the biscuit apart and started to put some clotted cream on it. "But only because I don't get any food until I bring down your dishes."

"Well that's not fair. You're a dwarf on the mend! You need all the food you can get t' build your strength back up," she lightly teased. She poured a bit of cream into her porridge before crinkling in a piece of bacon and adding some berries.

He raised his brow as he watched her. "Bacon in your porridge? Lass, I've heard o' many odd things, but that's certainly the oddest." He took a bite of the biscuit, some crumbs falling into his beard.

"Normally I'd eat it on its own, but the bacon down here is too salty t' eat on its own," she explained. "So I mix it in. It somehow tastes good with the sweetness o' the honey an' the berries." As she stirred the contents of her bowl together, she glanced at him. "Bofur, do you know what sort o' injuries Lovisa sustained? I know she has some, but she won't tell me. Says she doesn't want me t' worry 'bout her."

Slowly chewing the biscuit, he tried to recall what all Lovisa had. There had been so many injuries dealt to everyone, it was hard to keep track. "I think she's got some bruised ribs," he told her, "an' some gashes on her arms an' legs, but who didn't get some o' those? Except Zori. The wee lad got out scratch-free."

She nodded in understanding, chewing a bite of her porridge. She had gotten to properly meet Zori the previous day and found much amusement when he crawled all over her bed. "Make sure she doesn't do too much then, will you? She sometimes forgets tha' she's hurt an' does too much. Ends up strainin' herself…She may be half dwarf, but she's also half human an' in her eighties."

"No need t' worry about that, lass," he assured her. "Bifur's been actin' like her nanny. Won't let her do more than stir a pot or chop a couple o' vegetables before he makes her sit down and rest."

Baylee tilted her head curiously. "Really?"

"Mhm." He took a sausage as she offered it to him. "I think they've takin' a likin' t' one another, truthfully. They've got common ground, what with most folk being unable t' understand them an' them raisin' lil' ones that weren't theirs." He took a large bite out of the sausage; it was quite spicy and left his mouth tingly.

"Who did Bifur raise?"

He took a moment to finish the sausage before answering. "Me 'n Bombur. Our parents died before I was thirty, so he an' his mum took us in, though Bifur did most o' the work. He was in his early one-hundreds at the time an' had a lot more energy than his mum, who was always out at work. She was a seamstress, so she was always makin' these fancy gowns for the noble dwarrow ladies…Meanwhile, Bifur was an apprentice t' a toymaker. He's the one who taught me how t' make toys after I quit mining." Catching himself rambling, he shut himself up with half of a biscuit.

She warmly smiled at him. "Well, he did a good job raising you, then."

He chewed and swallowed the biscuit before affectionately smiling at her. "Lovisa an' your folks did a better job."

"Why do ya say that?"

"Because I don't know many folk –dwarrow or not- who would go chargin' into battle like the two o' you did when the odds were so horrible."

"We had t' keep you lot safe."

"An' scare us all," he quietly chuckled.

Baylee set her tray aside and scooted closer to him so she could hug hum. "I was more scared at the thought o' losin' any o' you than I was at the thought o' me dyin'," she softly admitted. "Especially after all o' you had traveled so far for the three o' us…"

Bofur set his hand on the back of her head, smiling fondly. "But we all lived," he gently told her. "Aye, we're a bit beaten, but we lived t' tell this tale."

"Thank the Valar." She pulled back slightly and rested her forehead against his. Her fingers rose up, stroking his cheek, though she was careful to not touch his scratches. "Bofur?"

"Aye, lass?" He couldn't take his eyes away from hers; they were so bright and so green, they made him think of two perfectly cut peridots.

Her fingers unconsciously brushed against his lips. "Out o' everyone, save Will…I missed you the most."

Taking her hands, he covered her knuckles in tender kisses. "I've missed you, too," he told her before nuzzling his cheek into one of her palms.

Watching him, Baylee felt her cheeks growing warm and a fluttering sensation filling her stomach. A small lump caught in her throat as he kissed her knuckles and she swallowed hard, trying to force it away. When he buried his cheek into her hand, her heart started to beat faster and she couldn't stop herself from speaking.

"Bofur, I love you."

He glanced up at her, his eyes wide in shock. Though his cheek left her palm, he continued to hold her hand. "Wh-what was that, lass?"

"I love you," she repeated. Swallowing hard, she looked down at her lap. "We haven't even known each other all that long, but somethin' 'bout you…You're sweet an' kind an' funny an' I just fell for ya."

Reaching over, Bofur lightly tilted her head back up so he could see her face. For a brief second, she saw a smile on his lips, but it was quickly hidden as he leaned forward and kissed her. As he did so, his mustache and beard tickled her skin, but it wasn't an unpleasant sensation. Her eyes closing, she returned the kiss, feeling relieved that he hadn't rejected her.

"I was goin' t' wait awhile before I told you," he murmured, barely drawing back from her. "Let ya get healed up an' recover from the ordeal. But since you said it first…" He kissed her a second time, feeling her lips curve into a smile. "I love you, too."

Remembering the words of her uncle from nearly a month ago, Baylee shyly raised her hand and stroked his mustache before twirling the end of it around her finger. A soft giggle left her mouth as Bofur grinned and wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer to him.

Through all this, the two of them hadn't realized that they weren't exactly alone. Bifur stood half hidden behind the door, a proud look on his features as the two kissed. He was glad his cousin had finally gathered up enough courage to admit his feelings. Before they could notice him, however, he silently closed the door and crept off, heading for the kitchen where he found Lovisa ladling a bowl full of porridge. She looked up as he came in and gave him a small wave before adding the bowl to a line up of other breakfast bowls.

His brow rose; there was sweat on her forehead and a bit of a pain expression on her features as she turned around to flip some bacon. Walking over, he plucked the two-pronged fork from her hands and set it aside. Lightly set his hands on her shoulders, he guided her over to a stool, where he made her sit.

'Have eaten?' he asked.

'No. Make sure-'

'Need eat. Need rest! Have hurt ribs,' he lightly scolded. 'Will get you food. Take over. You rest.'

She let out a defeated sigh; she knew better than to argue with him, especially since he was right. The left side of her torso was aching something horrible and it would continue to ache for some months –ribs took a long while to heal.

'Thank you,' she signed when he handed her a bowl of porridge.

'Someone need watch over you,' he signed back, giving her a small smile. 'You watch over all us. Need watching over self.' Rolling his sleeves up, he started to putter about the kitchen, cooking various foods. All the while, he kept an eye on Lovisa to make sure she ate the porridge. "I have some news, by the way," he told her, his Khuzdul filling the quiet kitchen.

Looking up, she made a quick sign. 'What?'

"First, you need to promise you don't tell anyone else what I'm about to tell you."

She nodded, making the sign for promise –an X over her heart.

Bifur leaned against the counter. "I saw Bofur an' Baylee kissing."

Lovisa's eyes shot open and she nearly dropped her bowl. 'What!?'

He nodded. "Saw it with my own two eyes."

'He best treat her well. Will have me, Will, Warren to answer to if not.'

Bifur laughed. "No need to worry. The males in our family treat their lovers very well. It wouldn't be an exaggeration t' say that we spoil them rotten." He smiled at her as he turned the bacon over. "Are you still hungry, by the way? I can cook you some eggs, if you'd like."

She watched him for a moment; she was still rather hungry, but his words were lingering in her mind. 'The males spoil their lovers?' she thought. 'Here he is, making sure I'm not working too hard and making me food…In fact, he's barely letting me do any work, even though he knows I can do some things. He's even rubbed my shoulders a time or two…' The slightest hint of a sly grin came to her features.

'Eggs lovely,' she signed as she stood up. 'Just putting bowl on counter!' She quietly laughed as Bifur eyed her movements.

He grinned slightly as he watched her return to her seat. "How many eggs and how do you like them?" he inquired, moving to grab the egg basket.

'Scrambled. Three, please.'

~*~*~

Crawling through the grass as he tried to catch butterflies, Zori was the epitome of adorable. Nori couldn't help but grin broadly as he sat some yards away, his pipe between his teeth with smoke slowly wafting into the morning air. The child had already gained some weight in the seven days that they had been in Rëma, making him look healthier; though, it did mean more diaper changes. All that mattered to Nori, however, was that Zori was in good spirits and being treated well…even if he had to endure the seemingly endless poopy diapers.

After a proper bath, Nori had discovered that the child had strawberry-blonde hair, a color not often seen up north. He also seemed to be quite popular with women; whenever Nori took him out, he got stopped every few yards by a young woman who wanted to coo to the child. He didn't mind so much, as Zori seemed to enjoy the attention.

"Don't try t' eat the butterflies," Nori quietly laughed as Zori slowly crawled towards some daisies. Five or six butterflies had perched atop the flowers, making them the perfect target for the child. "I hope there're not bees in the flowers." He lightly shook his head, resting his elbows on his knees as he watched the baby.

Zori laughed as one the butterflies flew into his face, its wings tickling his skin. Of course, he tried to grasp it from his face, but only ended up grabbing his nose and falling forward as the insect flew away. He whined, not quite able to wriggle his arms out from underneath him, rendering him stuck. Wobbling this way and that, he still could not free himself –and to his displeasure, the other butterflies were flying off without him! He let out a small wail.

"Papa's comin'," Nori gently told him, getting up from his spot and walking over to him. Gripping his pipe with his teeth, he stiffly leaned over and plucked the child up, giving him a little toss before catching him again. Zori giggled, hands clapping together. "You like that, huh?" he grinned, giving the wee lad another toss into the air. 'If Dori were here, he'd have my hide for doing this,' he thought. 'Nearly tanned me alive when I did it with Ori.'

Babbling at Nori, Zori happily kicked his legs as he was tossed into the air twice more. But then, out of nowhere, he scrunched up his little face in intense concentration. Nori stopped tossing him, looking concerned until Zori started to grunt and growl, his cheeks turning red. He couldn't help but crack up as the child suddenly passed wind a couple of times.

"You lil' pooper!" he laughed, tickling his belly.

And then he caught a whiff of the smell.

He held the child out at arm's length, gagging. "Aw, Zori –that's worse than Dwalin after a night o' nothin' but drinking and eating meat!" A sour expression came to his face, the sour smell having filled his nose. "How can a little babe like you make that big o' a stink?" he asked, disgusted. It wasn't the first time Zori had produced an awful stench, but it was the first time he had done it when alone with Nori.

Zori clapped again, his legs kicking out below him. He didn't know why his new father had such a funny face, but it was hilarious to behold –especially since Nori had his hair in the intricate star-shape again. Cooing, he started to run his hands over Nori's vambraces, entranced by the geometric designs.

"Let's go change your butt," Nori murmured, keeping him at arm's length. "With this sort o' smell, you may need a bath, you little stink bug."

Turning around, Nori suddenly stopped. Dwalin was standing just a few yards away, his arms crossed over his chest and his brow raised. What had Nori a bit nervous, however, was the large grin that the warrior wore.

"I saw tha'," he told Nori.

"Saw what?"

"Yeh playin' with Zori."

"I was just amusing him."

"Yeh were playin' with him an' havin' fun."

"I was amusing him. There's a difference," he replied, his voice tart.

Dwalin snickered. "Yeh know what I think?"

"No, and I wouldn't care t' know." He started to walk by Dwalin in a bit of a huff.

"I think yer enjoyin' fatherhood!" he called after Nori. "An' there isn't shame in that!"

Rolling his eyes, Nori continued on his way, though he quietly chuckled as Zori passed wind again. "More? You're really makin' a mess for papa to clean up, aren't you?" he quietly asked as the baby grunted. "You really are a little pooper…"

Zori let out a heavy, yet relieved sigh, the red slowly fading from his cheeks.

"Oh, is that it? You're done now, are you? Best make sure. I don't want to be changin' you and then a surprise happens."

He looked up at Nori, confusion all over his features.

"That's right. Papa doesn't want a surprise in the middle of changing your diaper," he chuckled, daring to pull him a bit closer. He still stank, but it wasn't as bad now that he had stopped passing gas. "Papa's lil' pooper…I'll hold that one over your head for a couple o' decades for sure."


	22. Chapter 22

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took awhile; last week was pretty hectic for me. I had three birthdays I needed to attend in a grand total of 4 days, so...I was pretty scatter brained last week. Also, this chapter is a bit on the shorter side, but things should start being longer again in chapter 23!

When Ori woke up, he found himself snuggled against Dwalin's chest, the warriors arms wrapped protectively around him. Smiling fondly, he let out a quiet sigh, scooting even further into his embrace. He didn't quite know why he had woken up; he was very comfortable and warm. Yawning, he closed his eyes, his good hand idly stroking Dwalin's forearm.

He was just about to drift back into sleep when the larger dwarf snored. Ori jumped, startled back into consciousness by the volume of the sound. A second snore shortly followed and Ori started to wonder if it had been these noises that had awakened him. Raising his brow, he lightly smacked Dwalin's chest with his good hand, trying to wake him up.

"Hey….wake up, you big lout," he chuckled. "Wake up!"

Dwalin stirred, his eye opening tiredly. "Huh? What's wrong, lad?" he murmured. Closing his eye again, he buried his face into Ori's hair.

"Your snoring woke me up, so I thought I'd repay the favor," he half teased, half scolded.

Shrugging, Dwalin rolled over onto his back, bringing Ori atop his bare chest. "Judgin' by the light, it's probably nearin' breakfast time," he murmured, tucking one hand behind his head. Looking down at Ori, he smiled tenderly. "Wonder if Lovisa's goin' t' cook us a feast again?"

"You mean Bifur?" he smiled, resting his chin on Dwalin's chest. "He barely lets her do anything because of her ribs."

Dwalin quietly chuckled, stroking the back of Ori's head. "Aye, he's been watchin' over her somethin' close," he told the lad. "Just like I've been watchin' over you, only less protective." He tilted his head down and kissed Ori's forehead.

"I don't think anyone's going to be able to be as shielding as you in these next few months." Shifting slightly, he winced as he rolled off of Dwalin and back onto his side. He quietly hissed in pain, his arm throbbing as it got pinned between him and the mattress.

"Careful, lad," Dwalin frown, lifting him up so he could free his arm. "It's not in a splint for nothin', after all." Very carefully, he lifted up the hand on Ori's broken arm and lightly dragged his lips along his knuckles.

"How's your eye –er, eye socket- feeling?" he asked, using his good hand to comb through Dwalin's beard.

He quietly chuckled, kissing the top of his head once more. "It's got a dull throb," he admitted, "but it's nothin' I can't handle. Though, it hurts somethin' awful when the healers check it an' put that strange medicine in it."

"I would imagine…I mean, your whole eye is missing." He gave him a pitying look. "How did it even happen?" Ori started to work at untangling a snarl in Dwalin's beard.

Shrugging, Dwalin closed his eyes. "Truth be told, I don't remember much. I think it happened when a warg caught me unawares an' tried t' crush my head in its jaws. The only thing I recall perfectly is the smell o' its breath." He quietly cursed. "Now that was a horrible smell."

"Of course it was –it was a warg," he chuckled. Freeing Dwalin's beard of the final tangle, he lightly patted down any stray hairs before kissing along his chest. "They don't care if the food they eat is fresh or three weeks rotten…" He shook his head. "I'm surprised you didn't get some sort of horrible infection."

"I'm glad I didn't," he admitted. "I may be a warrior, but when it comes t' havin' t' have pus an' yuck drained out o' my flesh, I'm a bit o' a weakling." He cringed at the thought. "Yuck."

"Luckily, Hunil seems to have some rather good medicines to keep that infection at bay," Ori told him, his lips trailing along Dwalin's collarbone. "Then again, rangers know how t' make potent medicines since they're always out in the wild, gettin' the freshest o' herbs and whatnot."

Tilting his head back, Dwalin sighed in content, his fingers stroking Ori's hair. "Yeh'd be surprised 'bout what he slathered on the wounds."

"Oh?" He glanced up at him.

"Honey."

Ori's brows furrowed. "What? Honey?" Dwalin nodded. "…Did he want you to attract more beasts?"

At that, Dwalin snorted. "No, no…He only put it on me until we could stop an' get some proper medicinal pastes on us all." He let his fingers run along Ori's bare shoulder, fingertips lightly tracing over the small scratches he had gotten during the fight. "Honey does have some medicinal properties t' it, though."

"Well, I knew that, but I thought it was only good in teas –you know, good for the throat and stomach."

He shrugged again. "Don't ask me," he told him. "I'm no healer. Are yeh hungry?"

Ori quietly laughed. "Am I a dwarf?" He watched as Dwalin sat up.

Dwalin grinned cheekily. "Silly me. Yer always hungry, like a normal person," he teased. "I'll go fetch us some food, eh? Yeh stay here; get some more rest." Throwing back the blanket back, he heard Ori chuckle as he slid out of the bed. "Enjoyin' the view?" he joked, searching the floor for his trousers. He grunted and jumped upright as he felt Ori's hand lightly smack his bare bum. Brow rising, he glanced over his shoulder. "Cheeky in the mornin', aren't yeh?"

"I think you're the cheeky one, being that you're over there, showin' off your bum."

He started to pull his trousers on, shaking his head with a small chuckle. "Yeh like my bum though." Lacing his trousers up, he reached down, intending to grab his shirt.

"I certainly missed the view while I was kidnapped." He laughed, shielding himself with a pillow as Dwalin lightly threw his trousers at him. "Hey now!" he chuckled. "I missed the rest of the view, too!"

Dwalin rolled his eyes, though still wore a grin, as he pulled the shirt on. "Yeh really are sassy this mornin'," he laughed. Leaning over, he stole a kiss from Ori. "I'll be back with breakfast soon. Don't yeh get out o' bed, yeh hear?"

"Not like I'd make it very far," he grinned, lying back down. "I'll probably fall asleep again."

"Well, yeh'll be awakened by bacon if yeh do."

"Sounds fine by me." He closed his eyes, still wearing a grin as Dwalin left the room.

~*~*~*~*~

Nori only had four hours' worth of sleep.

Zori's new, food-filled diet may have helped him gain weight and fill up his diapers, but it also meant that the child got colic more often, since his stomach was not used to the nutritious meals. Nori had done every possible thing he could think of to try and relieve the child's pain –bouncing him on his knee, patting him on the back, trying to get him to drink some cooled mint tea- but none of it had worked. After the first two hours of irritability, Zori seemed to calm down and had managed to nap, which Nori did as well, but was soon whimpering and crying again.

He took the child outside, hoping the fresh, morning air would help. After all, Zori loved being outside –mostly because of the butterflies- so perhaps the sight of grass and trees would calm the child. At first, it seemed to work and Zori calmed, his wailing reduced to sniffling and uncomfortable squirming. Sighing in relief, Nori moved to go sit under one of the cascading willow trees, setting his son in the grass beside him so he could play and hopefully be healed of any pain that was left in his tummy.

Eyes closing, Nori felt sleep trying to tug him back into its sweet embrace; he was exhausted and he was sure Zori was as well. But no sooner had he accidentally let his chin tip forward onto his chest and a small snore escape his mouth than Zori let out a pained wail. His eyes shot open and he found the child lying beside him.

"I'm sorry you hurt lad," Nori sighed, plucking him up. He cradled him against his chest, trying to ignore the pounding in his head. "Papa wants t' help, but he's tried everything."

"Have ya tried a warm bath and rubbin' his belly?"

He looked up, finding Baylee some feet away, leaning against a crutch. He hadn't even seen her coming…"No, I haven't."

"My mum, auntie, an' Lovisa would give us warm baths and rub our stomachs whenever we didn't feel good," she told him. "I don't quite know what the baths did, but rubbin' the stomach helped whatever was trapped loosen up enough t' work its way out." She winced slightly and shifted the crutch under her arm. "If that doesn't work, then…Well, sometimes you've just got t' let 'em tough it out. Sounds harsh, I know, but sometimes you just can't help them, no matter how badly you want to."

Nori nodded in understanding, rubbing Zori's back. "I think I'll try that, then," he sighed. "I hope it works, because we both need the sleep…"

She nodded in understanding, offering Nori a hand up. "At least you've some womenfolk around to help you, though," she chuckled, pulling him up. She ignored the pain she felt in her back and shoulders. "Otherwise, I'm sure you'd be totally lost."

He let out a weary laugh. "Ori was a baby once, you know. I know a few things, but I was never around for this sort o' thing."

Zori whined, his little hand grabbing the metal cap on Nori's beard. Tugging it towards him, he started to angrily gum on the metal.

"Though, it's hard t' tell if it's colic or teething right now," Nori murmured, keeping his head tilted to the side. "Rather sure it's colic, though…He passed wind a few times earlier and he calmed down for a bit, though he started crying again so…"

"Too bad the wee lad can't talk yet." Baylee limped alongside them as they headed towards the door. "When he does learn, things will get a might bit easier."

"Tell me about it. Though, he is rather talkative already. He likes to babble to butterflies or try telling me about how Dwalin got mashed carrot up his nose."

Baylee giggled. "Ah, so you let others feed him, then? Good plan. Gives you a chance t' eat."

He chuckled, opening the door inside and letting her in first. "More like Dwalin stole him from me an' used too big o' a spoon to feed him. Despite the carrots up his nose, though, we've discovered that the tyke loves the orange roots."

"Oh?"

"Aye. He loves 'em so much, he smeared them all over his body." The two of them came into the kitchen, where they were surprised to find Will washing dishes and Lovisa sipping some tea. Both looked up, Lovisa getting to her feet and hurrying to Baylee's side to usher her to sit.

"I'm fine, I'm fine," Baylee reassured her. "It's Zori who needs help. The lad needs a warm bath and tummy rubbing."

Lovisa frowned, her head tilting. 'Stomach hurt?'

"We think so," Nori replied. "Neither o' us have gotten much sleep since last night."

She nodded in understanding and was about to start filling a pot with water when Will stopped her. "You sit," he instructed. "I'll see to the water."

Sighing, Lovisa returned to her seat, earning a small giggle from Baylee as she hobbled over, getting a large wooden bowl for Zori's bath. While she knew that she had to rest just as much as the others, she was finding it difficult to actually do such; she was too used to running around and taking care of people. Bifur and Will, however, were doing quite a good job of making her be lazy.

She watched as Baylee finally sat down across from her, wincing slightly as her hip protested. 'How feel?' she signed.

"A little achy still, but my back is doin' so much better." She reassuringly smiled at her.

"You're not used to lazing about so much," Will chuckled, bringing them each a bowl of soup. "Especially in bed. No wonder your back got sore."

Lovisa thanked him for the soup. 'Baylee like me. Not like being lazy.' She smiled as Will kissed her temple.

"You're both always so worried over the wellbeing of other people," he told her, "so now it's up to us to let you two rest. Baylee, I made sure there were extra vegetables in your soup."

"Thank you, Will," she chirped. Plucking up the spoon, she started to eat.

Lightly bouncing Zori as he carried him, Nori walked over to the hearth and leaned over, sniffing the stew. "Smells good," he admitted. "Who made it?"

"Bifur," Will answered, "though Lovisa and I chopped the vegetables."

Nori lifted the ladle from the pot, inspecting the contents. "What are the white ribbons in it?"

"Egg."

"Egg?" Baylee asked, now looking closely at her bowl. She let some of the soup drop back in from her spoon, confused. "Why would ya put egg in a soup?"

'Hearty. Egg good for you,' Lovisa answered. 'At least, what Bifur told me. Said it help make feel better sooner.'

Nodding in understanding, Nori went to check the temperature of the water. Finding it adequate, he grabbed a cloth and pulled it off of the fire, though Will soon took the pot from him and poured its contents into the bowl while the dwarf removed Zori's dress and diaper. Zori protested to this; it meant that he could no longer chew on his father's metal hair clasp. As soon as his legs entered the warm water, he started kicking his legs and whining in protest.

"Quiet now, lad," Nori quietly told him. "This'll –hopefully- help you feel better."

His words did little to ease Zori. Still whining, he started to smack the water, writhing against Nori's hands. He barely even looked up when Baylee hobbled over and lightly moved Nori out of the way. Instead, he continued to fuss, his hands balled into fists.

"Shh," Baylee cooed, starting to rub his belly. "Shh, little one. Relax."

After some minutes, Zori finally started to calm down, though he was still sniffling. His stomach started to gurgle, its gaseous contents being moved around by the gentle massaging. Then, when nearly ten minutes of tummy- caressing had passed, he produced some rather large bubbles from his hindquarters, a surprised look on his face.

"That's my boy!" Nori grinned. He cracked up as Zori made more bubbles. Baylee, conversely, waved her hand in front of her nose, gagging slightly.

"Those have been fermentin'!" she retched, motioning for Nori to take over.

"Oh Valar! That does reek!" Will laughed, waving a clean plate in front of him in an attempt to fan the smell away. "Nori, what have ya been feedin' that child?"

Nori tugged his tunic over his nose; the smell was fairly potent. "Dwalin gave him mashed carrots last night," he grunted. "Er…Will, could ya heat me up some more water?"

Lovisa chuckled. 'Soiled himself?'

"Sadly, yes…"

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Bofur was puffing on his pipe that afternoon, his elbows resting on the balcony railing of his room. His stomach was full from a hearty lunch he had bought out in the market; he had also purchased a small lemon cake as a present for Baylee. Baylee, however, was nowhere to be found. She had been given strict orders to not leave the house of healing or its gardens, leaving very few places where she could actually go; and yet, he couldn't find her.

As such, he had given up his search in favor for a smoke. 'She's probably off in a bath or getting her thigh and hip looked over,' he thought, lightly twirling his pipe between his fingers. The taste of tobacco in his mouth brought some comfort and a sense of home to him. With his eyes shut and the sounds of the city reaching his ears, he could almost picture himself back in Dale. The only difference was the smell of salt in the air; the air of Dale bore a sweeter scent –the scent of growing trees and grass.

A small knock came to the door, pulling him out of his thoughts. "Bofur…? Ya in there?"

"Aye, lass. Door's open!" He turned, smiling as Baylee came limping into the room with her crutch. "Ya know…'bout half an hour ago, I looked all over this place for you and couldn't find you anywhere."

She gave him an apologetic smile. "Sorry 'bout that. I was in the bath." Bofur met her halfway through the room and helped her out onto the balcony before going back in and fetching a stool for her. "Thank you." Her cheeks turned a bit pink as he kissed her cheek. Grinning, she turned her head and stole a kiss from his lips.

Bofur kissed her in return, lifting his hand so he could cup her cheek. "Got you a present," he murmured against her lips. He smirked as she quietly giggled.

"Oh? What's it for?" she inquired, lightly rubbing her nose against his.

"A belated birthday gift." Reluctantly pulling back from her, he hobbled back into his room so he could fetch the cake he had bought her. It had been wrapped in a simple linen cloth to keep it from going stale. "Here ya go, lass." Beaming as he came back outside, he held the cake out to her. "Hope ya like it."

Her brow rising in curiosity, she took the object from him. "A belated birthday gift, hm?" Opening it, she suddenly cracked up. "Alright…Who told you I liked lemon cake?" A soft giggle left her mouth as Bofur nuzzled her cheek.

"A certain redhead an' her lover back in Dale." Taking her crutch, he leaned it against the railing before plucking up his pipe again. He took a breath from it as Baylee took the first bite out of her lemon cake.

She let out a small, excited squeak when she discovered that the cake was filled with lemon curd –something that the pies and cakes back home didn't have. "This is amazing!" she exclaimed through a mouthful of cake. She blushed in embarrassment as she accidentally sprayed some crumbs onto her lap. "Sorry…"

"Be as messy as you like, lass," he chuckled. "So I take it that this cake is a wee better than the stuff ya get in Dale?"

She nodded, using a finger to wipe some lemon curd from her chin while chewing. After swallowing, she turned the uneaten half of the cake towards him, showing him the filling. "The ones back home don't have this yummy filling," she told him. "They're just a plain cake." She licked the curd from her finger, offering him a bite of the cake.

Leaning forward, he took the offered bite, being extra careful to not nip her fingers. He was surprised; the cake and curd tasted quite a bit like lemon, but only the curd had any of the tartness. Now he knew why it was Baylee's favorite cake –with the balance between sweet and sour, it was delicious.

"So what have you been up to all day? Besides lookin' for me, that is," she inquired before taking the final bite.

He shrugged. "Not much. I explored the market an' found some lunch there." As he spoke, smoke furled out of his mouth and nose. "There are some really interestin' foods t' find out there. A lot o' stuff I didn't recognize, but it was relatively yummy. When you're able t' leave the house o' healin', I should take you around the place. I'm sure you'd like it."

A quiet laugh left her mouth. "That sounds like it'd be fun," she told him, "but I don't think I'd be allowed t' leave until we all head back t' Dale."

"Which will be in three days," he sighed. He then cheekily grinned. "Well, then, I'll just have t' buy you lots o' food an' bring it all back for you. I'm sure Lovisa won't mind."

She playfully rolled her eyes. "So long as I'm ingestin' a lot o' food, Lovisa's wouldn't mind." Brushing the crumbs from her lap, she then folded up the cloth the cake had been in and set it on the railing.

"She just wants ya t' gain your strength back." Leaning over, he kissed her forehead, his free hand stroking her cheek. "It'll be nice t' see you walking around without a crutch, though I know it'll be a long while before that happens."

Baylee unconsciously rubbed her outer thigh. "Hunil an' the other healers said the teeth went all the way into the bone," she sighed. "So I imagine it'll be some months before I'm walkin' right –if I walk right at all ever again." Her head was tilted upright and Bofur gave her a soft kiss; as he kissed her, she could taste and smell the tobacco from his pipe. Her senses were filled by the richness of smoked cherries –not unpleasant to her in the least.

"You'll heal up just fine," he told her, his tone soft and comforting. "It'll just take you a little while."

She smiled, nuzzling his cheek. "At least I can kiss you durin' that time," she murmured, her hand subtly rising and taking hold of the stem of his pipe. Slowly, so he wouldn't notice, she started to ease it from his grasp. "I like your kisses."

He grinned, kissing her once more. "Aye, I'm enjoyin' your kisses, too, lass." Not even noticing that she had stolen his pipe, he brushed some hair from her face, gently tucking it behind her ears. "Does your brother know 'bout 'us' yet…?" He kissed her cheek near her ear, his whiskers lightly tickling her skin.

"Not yet." She popped the stem of his pipe between her teeth, inhaling the cherry-tinged smoke as he gave her a startled look. "What's wrong?" she sweetly asked.

"When did ya get that?" he demanded, confused. "Wait…you smoke?"

She nodded, blowing out a thin stream of smoke. "Not often, but I do," she explained. "Also, I took it right out o' your hand not two minutes ago." Inhaling the smoke again, she tilted her head back and blew a small smoke ring into the afternoon air. "Don't tell Will, though. He an' papa don't think it's proper for a woman t' smoke. Don't know why; Aunt Demelza smokes."

"I won't be tellin' him," he assured her. "Though…you should tell him 'bout us before we leave."

"I plan on it," she agreed before taking a final puff of the pipe. Handing it back for Bofur, she let the hot, smoky air furl out through her nose. "I'm sure he won't mind; somethin' tells me he's been wishin' for you an' me to get together."

At that, Bofur laughed. "Oh, he has. I blurted out t' Dwalin an' Bifur that I fancied ya a few days after ya left…didn't know Will was behind me. Ever since then, he's been pesterin' me to tell ya." Leaning over, he lightly rubbed his nose against hers again before resting his forehead against hers. "I'll take that as a good sign, though."

She smiled, her hand lightly clasping his. "Aye. If Will likes ya, then it means you stand a fair chance o' not bein' frightened away by him or papa." She kissed his chin.

He raised his brow. "…So, if he didn't like me, he'd scare me away from you?"

"Well, he'd try. Apparently, he's done it before. I'm not too sure, though. I'm not really the sort o' woman who needs t' worry about males chasin' after her."

Bofur pouted slightly before kissing her nose and suddenly grinning brazenly. "No. You get t' have dwarves chasin' you all day long."

"Just one dwarf," she smiled, wrapping her arms around him. She buried her face in the crook of his neck, sighing in content. "I don't need any others chasin' after me."

He held her against him, his eyes closing as his hand stroked the back of her head. "Good, because then I'd have t' chase 'em away." Idly, he started to put some small braids into her hair, continuing to nuzzle her.

"I doubt I'd have any other dwarves pursuin' me," she chuckled, her hand rising up to stroke his mustache.

He raised his brow. "If ever you visited Erebor, I'm sure there would be a couple tryin' t' woo you…an' then they'd regret it." Kissing her lips again, he felt her grin into the kiss and pull him a bit closer to her. Holding her against him, he closed his eyes, fingers running through her hair.

And then someone knocked on the door.

Pouting, Bofur pulled back. "Who is it?" he called.

"Rán. I am looking for Lady Baylee. Do you know where I could find her?"

Baylee blinked, feeling Bofur pull her a bit closer to him. "I'm in here," she called before Bofur could say otherwise. "Come on in."

The door opened and Rán entered. She seemed to stiffen slightly as she saw Bofur hugging Baylee, but managed a relieved smile. This was the first time she had seen Baylee since they had reached Rëma, since she had been busy with official business. "It is good to see you up and about."

Smiling, Baylee tilted her head slightly. "And I'm glad t' see that you're not too badly hurt," she replied. "Though, judgin' by your uniform an' weapons, you need somethin' other than t' check up on my health." Rán had shaved, leaving her jaw smooth and giving her a slightly more feminine appearance than normal.

An apologetic look came to her features. "I am afraid so. The prisoner we captured during the skirmish requests to see you."

"Me?" She frowned. "Why would they wish t' see me?"

"She has told me that you two are acquaintances," she explained, "but will not go into further detail."

Bofur frowned. "Baylee's not fit t' walk around town," he told Rán.

"That is why the prisoner was brought here. I have put her in one of the first-floor rooms." She smirked ever so slightly as Bofur glanced away, discontented. "So if you would come with me, Lady Baylee…"

Nodding, she grabbed her crutch and, with some help from Bofur, eased herself upright. She kissed the top of his head before quietly telling him, "Save me a spot next to you at dinner, aye?"

"Promise," he smiled.

Baylee limped towards Rán, who held the door open for her. She thanked her and went into the hall. "What does the prisoner look like?" she quietly asked.

"She is a tall woman with scars across her face and body."

"And her hair is blood-red?"

Rán nodded. "Then she does not lie? You do know her?"

She lightly shrugged. "It's quite possible. There were a lot of women Ori and I met while we were captured. Not many of them had red hair, however."

As they reached the stairs, Rán offered Baylee her arm so that she could help her down the steps. "Did the healer say how long it would be until your leg is healed?"

"A few months at the least. Apparently, the two warg teeth that had been pulled out o' my side were stuck in the bone." She breathed a sigh of relief when they reached the final step. "It's going to be a long road t' recovering, but at least I can sort o' walk for now."

Rán smiled. "That is always a good thing. Do you know when your group will be returning to Dale?"

"In three days, from what I've heard." She noticed that Rán still held onto her arm, helping her to walk in place of her crutch. Rounding a corner, she saw Nakara standing before a door at the end of the hall, a sword on his hip and his arms crossed over his chest.

"So soon? But most of you are still injured." Rán frowned; she didn't like this news.

"Most o' us would like t' get home as soon as possible –especially since my brother is due t' become a father quite soon."

Rán raised her brow, looking rather surprised. "Is that so? I was not aware that he had a wife."

"Heh…Well, he doesn't just yet…but he plans on marryin' the mother o' the child."

She nodded in understanding as they came upon the door. Nakara turned around and unlocked the door before opening it and stepping aside. Leading Baylee into the room, the two women found Hunil and Girish standing near the windows. Sitting on the edge of the bed was Vlasta, her hands and ankles bound by iron shackles. She looked up when Baylee and Rán entered, a tired smile coming to her lips. She had bandages along her arms and some poking out from beneath her tunic.

"Hello, Baylee. Am glad to see are still alive. Was surprised to see what had happened…But not surprised that it happened."

"Damayanti had it coming to her. Taking my fingers was one thing, but what she was trying with Ori was too far."

She slowly nodded. "Would have helped if had known…and weren't drunk." She smiled apologetically. "Are with friends again, though. That good thing, eh?"

Rán looked between the two. "Lady Baylee, how do you know her?"

"She…" Baylee looked between Rán and Vlasta. "She was the one who kept me an' Ori as safe as she could. She made sure we didn't get taken by cruel people."

Rán nodded and stiffly leaned against the wall. "So she is the one who made you her concubine?"

"It was in title only," Vlasta told her. "Wouldn't use her for concubine, eh? Am more into males than females." She gave Baylee a tired smile.

"What, exactly, happened that caused all of your city's warg riders to be sent after us?" Rán asked as Nakara helped Baylee to sit on a nearby stool.

Vlasta shook her hair. "Not all riders sent. Just most," she corrected. "And…from what can guess, would say that Baylee killed our queen. Would say Ori did it, but…" Shaking her head, she glanced at Baylee, who had gone a bit pale. "She had brought about more of Baylee's wrath, eh?"

Glancing at Baylee, Rán wore a look of shock. "You killed a queen?"

She nodded slowly, rubbing the back of her neck. "I had just meant t' stab her," she admitted, "not kill her. But I guess either the knife had reached her heart or she bled out…I don't know. That whole night is still a blur t' me."

Vlasta quietly laughed. "If had stayed and not run, would have gotten honors amongst people. Those who manage to slay queen in hand-to-hand combat get to become queen –most times."

Baylee peeked around the room, seeing that the rangers were staring at her, impressed looks on their faces. "I'm not goin' back," she told them. "I don't care if I'd be made a queen. I'm goin' home in a few days. Someone else can be queen. Make Vlasta queen for all I care!"

"Am not going to be queen," Vlasta laughed. "Am being put to death."

"What?" Baylee stared at her.

"Am being put to death," she repeated. "Is what I get for being raider, eh?" Though she sounded amused, Baylee could hear the sorrow and regret in her voice. "Asked to come here so could see that you were alright. Are little worse for wear from looks of it, but are still alive."

Baylee looked at Rán. "You can't kill her."

"Lady Baylee, she is a criminal," Rán gently explained. "Because of her, the three of you could have ended up dead-"

"But we didn't. Instead, she made sure that we ended up getting taken to places where we'd be safe!" she argued. "Aye, I lost two fingers, but it wasn't any fault o' hers –it was the queen's!" She gave Rán a pleading look. "You can't kill her!"

Rán crossed her arms over her chest. "Lady Baylee, you do not understand the severity of her crimes-"

"You can use her t' get into the city an' capture the last raiders with minimal uprising!"

Girish shook his head. "Is not that simple," he spoke. "People not listen to her."

"Vlasta was Damayanti's second in command; of course they'll listen to her!" she cried.

There was silence for some minutes. The rangers looked between one another, uncertainty and doubt written on their faces.

"You did not tell us that." Rán voice was rather cold as she glanced at the raider.

Vlasta rubbed the back of her neck, glancing away. "Because didn't want to know," she grumbled. "Was keeping it secret on purpose, eh?"

Lifting her brow, Rán did not seem amused, though she remained quiet as she thought. Turning from the group, she walked over to the window and peered out of if, her hands on her hips. "You said that only most of the riders had been sent after us. Is that the truth?"

"Yeah."

"How many people live in that city and the lands to the south?"

Shrugging, Vlasta thought for a moment. "Three, four thousand? Not sure; we get more and more every year, eh? Hard to keep track."

"How many of those people are raiding prizes?"

"Less than half thousand. Is not normal for us to take prisoners, but Prema liked Tyko and Baylee and Ori…were plucky. That amused us."

Baylee's brow rose. "Plucky? How were we plucky?" she murmured, more to herself than to anyone else.

Hearing her words, Vlasta grinned. "When fought us in Dale," she explained, "were throwing insults at us while fought. Two of you, back-to-back…Was unusual and amusing."

Turning slightly, Rán glanced at Baylee. "You may leave now, Lady Baylee," she told her. "Rest assured that Vlasta may no longer die now that you have told us that she was the second-in-command."

A small surge of relief washed over Baylee as Nakara helped her stand and leave the room. As the door was closed behind her, she could see Ori peeking his head around the corner. She gave him a small smile and wave.

"Is Vlasta really in there?" he asked when she approached.

Her brows furrowed. "How did…?"

He shrugged. "Nori said important people were in there, so I snooped a little bit. I thought I had heard Vlasta's voice, but it was hard to hear through the wood." The two of them started to walk away. "Why is she here?"

"She requested t' see me. She was goin' to be put to death, but I think I may have changed her fate for the better…"

"How so?"

"She didn't tell Rán that she was Damayanti's right hand, but I told her. Vlasta didn't seem terribly pleased by this news, but I don't think she's goin' t' die anymore. At least, not any time soon."

Ori nodded in understanding. "She did try to keep us as safe as possible. It would be a bit of a shame to see her die like that. She seemed the most…kind out of the raiders, after all."

"Her an' Malasintha were definitely the kindest. I hope Malasintha's alright…"

"I didn't see her during the fray, so she's probably still in the city."

Baylee slowly nodded. "They also know it was me who killed Damayanti," she quietly told him.

He frowned. "It could just as easily have been me-"

"But it wasn't." She gave him a small, worn-out smile. "Vlasta knew I had more hatred towards her than ya. I think Rán an' the other three are a wee bit terrified o' me now."

"Well, truthfully, they should be. Not only did you kill a queen, but you an' Will somehow cheated death."

She groaned. "We didn't cheat death –Mandos must have decided it wasn't our time or somethin'."

"You've got to admit, though, that with how badly the two of you were hurt, most folk would have died."

Rolling her eyes, she sighed; the past week had been full of this very same talk from the other dwarves. "Aye, I admit that –how we lived, I'll never know. I'm just glad we did. I'll get t' see my family again an' I can cuddle Bofur…" Her cheeks flared red when she realized that she had said the last part out loud.

A cheeky grin came to Ori's lips. "Ah! So you two are courtin' now?" he laughed. Baylee glanced away, mumbling something under her breath. "Good!" He smiled reassuringly at her. "You two are goin' to make a really cute couple, honestly."

"Just…Don't tell anyone yet," she mumbled. "I need t' tell Will before anyone else finds out."

"I promise I won't say a word to anyone," he told her.

In spite of this, neither of them had noticed that, as they spoke, they had passed by Lovisa. She was crouched down off of the path, picking some herbs for tea. Upon hearing the news about Bofur and Baylee, her brow rose up and she felt intrigued. Baylee she knew quite well, but Bofur? She had barely talked with him on this journey and didn't know much about him besides the fact that he was Bifur's younger cousin.

She thought that she ought to have a small chat with him.

Having just seen Bofur in the kitchen, she stood upright and headed back inside, forgetting about her herbs. There he was, pouring himself a cup of ale from a clay pitcher. No one else was in the room, leaving her able to have a discussion with him in relative peace.

"Afternoon, Lovisa," he smiled, setting the pitcher down. "Would you like a cup o' ale?"

She shook her head. 'No thank-you. Would like talk.'

"About?" His brow rose as he took a drink of his ale.

'Baylee.'

He coughed, choking slightly on the last few drops. "P-pardon?" he wheezed, patting his chest.

'Heard Baylee, you courting.'

His eyes widened slightly, but he managed a small laugh. "She told ya then, huh?"

'No. Overheard.' She idly started to gather various vegetables that would need to be chopped up for that night's meal. 'Want to give little warning.'

Bofur chuckled nervously. "Ya don't have t' worry 'bout me breakin' her heart," he assured her. "I love her quite a bit an' I'd do anythin' for her. Elsewise, I wouldn't be here." He rubbed the back of his neck and glanced away for a moment.

Lovisa raised her brow. 'Baylee precious to family. Spitting image of mother. If hurt her in any way, will be dealt same pain by family,' she warned. 'Am not biggest worry, either. Will, Warren protective.'

"Oh, aye, I know –but Will's been wantin' me an' Baylee t' court!" he told her. "Just ask him; ever since Baylee an' Ori left for Lake Town, he's been tryin' t' help me think o' the best ways t' tell her my feelings." He took another drink of his ale before continuing on in his rambling. "Go figure, it's Baylee who tells me first an' while she's still in bed, no less! I was goin' t' tell her once we got back up in Dale so she wouldn't be overwhelmed by all o' the happenings that have gone on, but I guess she's strong enough t' handle one more chip on the plate. I mean, I know she's a strong lass –I've seen her fight an' she did save me from gettin' eaten by a warg- but that strong?" He shook his head slightly. "Warren an' Will should be proud o' her. Most human women would be left as-"

Lovisa clapped her hand over his mouth. She had been trying to sign at him, but his focus was on the ale in his cup, not on her.

"Sorry," came his muffled voice.

'Understand what mean,' she told him, somewhat amused. 'Care for her. Best treat her very well. Will know if not.' She removed her hand from his mouth. 'Understand?'

He nodded quickly. "Aye, Miss Lovisa, I do," he stammered. "An' you won't have t' worry 'bout me not treatin' her well, because I plan on treatin' her very well. Like a queen, even."

'Good. Then are free to go.'

Quickly refilling his mug, Bofur hurried out of the kitchen, officially feeling terrified. 'I hope Warren doesn't try to have that sort of talk with me when we get back to Dale,' he thought, taking a long drink of the ale. 'I don't think I could survive that one. Lovisa a bit intimidating, but Warren…I think I'd rather face a dragon without any weapons than face him by myself regarding his daughter. I'm not going to let that stop me, though. It's not like he has anything to be upset over…I don't plan on hurting Baylee –only holding her and kissing her.'

He quietly sighed, a small smile coming to his lips. 'Aye, she'll just get lots of hugs and kisses.'

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"So have the two o' you thought about any names for the child?"

"Not really…We discussed girl names before I left, but not any boy names."

"Well, then, you know that it'll definitely be a boy now." She quietly laughed as she brushed her brother's hair while he rested his head on her lap.

He tilted his head back slightly, looking up at her. "Do you have any ideas?" he inquired.

Her brow rose. "Will…I don't have any ideas about my future wedding, let alone baby names," she told him. "You could try Lovisa or one o' the dwarves."

Will shrugged, feeling his twin separate his hair into strands for braids. "I don't think Adela would want our child t' have a dwarvish name."

"Oh, I don't know…there are some rather handsome an' gorgeous names out there that are of dwarvish origin."

"Like?"

"Well, their late king had a handsome name. Thorin, wasn't it?"

"Aye, Thorin."

"An' then there's Anika an' Katina for female names…"

Will quietly laughed. "You don't know many dwarvish names, do you?"

A small pout came to her lips. "I haven't met as many as you an' papa."

"Though you fancy one."

Her cheeks turned deep red. "Actually…I needed t' talk t' you about that…" She did her best to keep focused on the braid; it was so odd to braid now that she only had four fingers per hand.

"You have my blessings t' court Bofur," he laughed.

"That's wonderful, because we've been courtin' for four days now."

He gawked up at her. "An' just when were you plannin' on tellin' me, Baylee?" he demanded.

She glanced away, holding the braid with one hand while the other rubbed her arm. "I had meant t' tell ya the day we kissed, but…You were walkin' around an' not in the room 'til after I fell asleep."

Sighing, Will sat up, not caring that Baylee wasn't done braiding his hair. She thought she was about to receive a scolding, but instead, he pulled her against him in a hug. "He'll be good for you, 'Lee," he told her. "He has been good for ya." Grinning, he looked down at her, seeing that her cheeks were still red. "Bofur cares quite a bit about you an' he's definitely not the sort who'd hurt you. An' I know you care 'bout him."

"I don't think papa's goin' to be very happy, though," she admitted.

"Dad won't mind. Not when he sees you two together. It'll be like me an' Adela –he may not like the idea o' it at first, but he'll warm up to it. He's was already treatin' Adela like one o' the family just a few days after she moved in with us. Anyway, I saw the two o' you at dinner; bloody adorable."

Baylee shyly smiled. "Will…"

"It's true. I knew you two had to be holding hands under the table or something."

She glanced away, giggling. "Aye, we were." Shifting slightly, she moved to lean against the pillows of her bed. "But, Will…don't you think papa would still be at least a wee bit upset?" She glanced up at him. "After all, Bofur is goin' t' live far longer than me…"

"Let me tell ya somethin', Baylee." He scooted up to sit beside her, his arm around her shoulders. "I wasn't supposed t' be the one to tell ya this –dad was going to tell you someday, but I don't think he'll ever get around to it…It's about our family." He sighed, tilting his head back to stare at the ceiling. "Dad wasn't born in Lake Town."

"That much I figured. I kept gettin' told that my hair color wasn't right for this side o' the Misty Mountains."

"By who?"

"The raiders."

"Ahh…well, they're right. Dad was born on the shores o' a different lake –Lake Evendim far t' the west." He closed his eyes. "The people there are few an' scattered…maybe a couple thousand at the most. They're not like the folk you find back home. They live harder lives because they're constantly hunted by orcs an' other evil things."

She closed her eyes as well. "I don't see how that helps with the lifespan o' dwarves."

"It does help…it's because we're o' Dúnedain blood."

Her brows furrowed; she had heard that term somewhere before, but from where? "It rings a bell, but I don't know the significance o' it…"

Opening an eye, he glanced down at her. "The Dúnedain are descended from Numenorians, 'Lee." A small look of comprehension came to her features, earning a small laugh from him. "It means we get a longer lifespan than other humans. It also means we're a bit stronger an' hardier; that's why we lived through these wounds.

"But because da' married mum an' had us, we won't get t' live as long as him. We'll live t' be maybe a hundred and fifty. Other Dúnedain can live nearly three hundred years."

She frowned slightly. "But…Will…that means you'll outlive Adela…"

A heavy sigh left his mouth. "I know; I've thought long an' hard about that. But Adela owns my heart. I know I won't find a love like hers again. Just like how dad is sure he won't remarry."

Baylee unconsciously hugged herself. "Our blood sounds like it can be more o' a burden t' us than a blessing. I mean, you're goin' t' marry Adela an' have a family with her…you'll…you'll have t' go through watchin' her age while you stay young."

"I know." He looked away from her. "But she'll always be my beautiful Adela." He wiped a tear from his face as it escaped his eye. "With luck, mum's blood will have thinned dad's out enough t' allow us t' get grey like normal folk, but…the smart side o' me says that it doesn't work quite like that."

She gave her twin an encouraging smile. "Well…if ya don't get grey, then at least Adela can keep sayin' she's got a handsome young lad for a husband?" she suggested, trying to cheer him up. "How many old biddies can say that, eh? None! You two will be walkin' down the street an' someone will ask her 'Excuse me, ma'am, but is this your son?' an' she'll grin all happily an' be like 'No! This alluring man is my husband!' and the two o' you will walk off –an', knowin' Adela, she'll smack you on the rump."

Will couldn't help but crack up laughing, causing tears of mirth to flood his eyes and cheeks. "Alluring?" he repeated when he managed to catch his breath.

"I don't know!" she giggled. She was glad she had managed to make him laugh; she didn't like it when Will was upset. "It sounds like somethin' she'd use, doesn't it? I mean, she's never called ya handsome –it's always been 'beautiful' or 'gorgeous' or 'striking'. Nothin' less."

He snorted. "I'll keep that in mind, then," he laughed. "Sheesh. Bofur's goin' t' have t' think o' something good t' use t' describe you if Adela's callin' me gorgeous."

"We are not goin' t' get our lovers in a contest t' see who can come up with the best description!" she laughed. "Valar in the West know how that'll turn out."

"Give 'em enough drink an' they'll both lose," Will grinned.

As Baylee fell into her own laughing fit, the door to their room opened. Lovisa raised her brow as she looked at the tittering twins, a small smile coming to her lips. Shaking her head, she clapped her hands, catching their attention –though, they did continue to giggle.

'Laughter waking everyone,' she scolded. Despite this, she continued to smile. 'Near midnight. Sleep! Need rest. Leaving in two days.'

"Sorry, Lovisa," they chorused.

Baylee climbed out of Will's bed and limped back into her own as Lovisa came fully into the room. She helped Will arrange his bed and pillows before pulling the blankets up to his shoulders and kissing his forehead. The same thing she did with Baylee, though she took a bit more help since the blankets had tangled around her bad leg. Kissing her forehead as well, Lovisa made sure the two of them were snug before leaving the room.

As she closed the door, she could hear them giggling again.


	23. Twenty-Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry for the long wait, guys! There was a horrible combination of having very little down time and a lack of inspiration going on. I'm hoping that this goes away, because I don't like keeping people waiting :( On a slightly different note, I also have a drabble up for Star Trek if you guys are into that; there's no romance, just a nice bar fight~!

The sun had barely risen when Will lightly shook his sister. "C'mon, Baylee. Time t' get up."

"'M still sleepin'," she mumbled, pulling the covers over her head. "Go away."

Rolling his eyes, Will reached down and pulled the pillow out from underneath his twin's head. She cursed, but made no effort to get up; instead, she slowly curled into a ball and clutched the blankets closer to her. He knew that, with their injuries, he couldn't do anything drastic to Baylee like he normally would, leaving him with very few options. As such, he stiffly leaned down and scooped her up, causing her to wriggle in protest.

"Will!" she whined. "I was havin' a good dream!"

He chuckled as he placed her over his shoulder. "I'm sorry, but we're leavin' today. Bifur, Bofur, an' Lovisa already have breakfast laid out for us."

"I can walk, y'know!"

"Yes, but you weren't gettin' out o' bed, so I decided t' help you."

Pouting, Baylee tried to glare at her brother, but it failed when she realized she could only look at the back of his head. "Arsemunch."

He tilted his head slightly. "What's that? Ya want t' go for a swim out in the duck pond?"

She squeaked. "William Braddock, don't you dare!"

Will grinned mischievously as he started down the stairs. Baylee began to squirm again when he made, not for the dining hall, but instead for the garden. He laughed as she lightly swatted his shoulder, cursing at him to put her down. It did little to cease his footsteps.

"Baylee, those words are hardly befittin' for a woman o' your age an' status," he teasingly scolded. "Especially when we're around others! Tsk, tsk big sister…"

Baylee's face was crimson as Will set her down in a chair; he had brought her outside where the dwarves were already eating. They were doing their best to hide their amusement at her plight, but it was a poor attempt –Nori couldn't help but snicker and Dwalin was grinning too broadly for that time of day. Holding back his laughter, Bofur started to pile her plate up with food.

"You're the one who made me think you were goin' t' toss me into the pond," she mumbled to her brother.

"When have I ever thrown ya into any sort o' pond?"

She gave him a dry look. "Let's see, shall I clump all o' the summer days from Lake Town together or would ya like me t' name 'em separately?"

His only response was a cheeky grin in her direction.

"I take it that Will's bein' a pain in the arse this morning?" Dwalin asked, still finding amusement in the siblings.

"Just a wee bit. Thank you, Bofur." She kissed Bofur's temple before starting to eat.

Will pouted slightly, pulling a few slabs of bacon onto his plate. "Hey now –without me, you'd be sleepin' still an' missing this good breakfast." Lovisa set three fried eggs onto his plate when he wasn't looking.

She wrapped the blanket –which she had clung onto the entire time- around herself like a dress, shivering slightly as the crisp morning air touched her bare arms. "I almost wish ya had. It's chilly out here."

"Then it's a good thing you've that blanket."

"Ba!" Everyone paused and looked at Zori, who trying to grab a spoonful of porridge from Nori. He already had quite the amount of porridge covering his cheeks and chin, but it seemed he wanted more. "Bababada!" he delightfully cried before he was fed some more food.

Nori raised his brow. "Child, you are too enthusiastic in the morning," he murmured, taking the opportunity to eat some of his own food. "We'll be leavin' before noon, right?" he asked to no one in particular.

"Aye," Dwalin replied. "In fact, it'd be nice t' leave within the next few hours –if possible, that is." He speared an egg with his knife and shoved it into his mouth, chewing it. "We've got a cart an' some horses to pull it for those who can't walk or ride for long as well as for supplies." He stole a small glance at Baylee and Lovisa.

"An' we've got horses for the rest o' us," Ori chirped, happily covering his fried potatoes in white-pepper gravy. "If we keep up a good, leisurely pace, it should take us about two weeks t' get back while followin' the river."

Bifur set his cup down after taking a long drink of water. "Good! Zirikh ganag funm," he sighed. "Sulur lîz nalim, kânush bed-mâ."

Bofur nodded, grinning. "I'll attest t' that," he agreed. "I miss my bed as well. I mean, the beds here are very nice an' plush, but there's just somethin' 'bout layin' in your own bed that makes someone sleep easier."

There were varying sounds of agreement as the others ate. Whenever Nori failed to feed him fast enough, Zori would start to babble loudly at his father, trying to get his attention. It earned some bouts of small laughter from the group. They did their best to eat as much good food as their bellies could handle before they began the long trek home. With better supplies, they knew they wouldn't need to worry about starving on the way back, but they also knew that they couldn't eat as much.

 

Two hours later found Bifur, Dwalin, and Will were loading the supplies into the back of the cart while Nori, Ori, and Bofur made sure the horses were all properly saddled, each carrying equal amounts of gear. Lovisa, on the other hand, was currently trying to slather Baylee's skin with a strange ointment made of herbs, minerals, and fat. Will had told them that it would help protect their skin from getting burned by the sun and that he had used it when he was last in Dorwinion, but had forgotten to mention the peculiar odor of the salve.

"It reeks," Baylee cringed, fanning her nose with her free hand.

Lovisa glanced up at her as she continued to rub the ointment into Baylee's skin. She lightly shook her head, sighing.

"I know," Baylee told her, "I'm actin' like a babe about this an' complainin' over somethin' that'll stop me from turnin' as red as a crawfish, but it's not a pleasant smell. There's too many flowers crammed into this stuff."

Lovisa gave her another look and motioned for her to hold out her other arm. As Baylee did so, she quietly chuckled. The smell was unpleasant, but not as much as the young woman was making it out to be. In fact, it was almost pleasing when she had gotten used to it –which had been nearly twenty minutes earlier, when she made everyone else put it on.

"I'm goin' t' be in the cart anyway," Baylee quietly told her. "It's covered. Why do I need it?"

'Will walk, ride at times,' Lovisa signed. 'Close eyes.'

Doing as she was told, Baylee sighed when Lovisa gently rubbed the lotion into her face and neck. "Thank you," she mumbled, knowing that Lovisa only had her best interests in mind.

Lovisa kissed the top of her head when she finished and grabbed a towel to wipe her hands off. She motioned for Baylee to wander off while she tidied up things. It was as she was capping the clay pot that Bifur walked up to her.

'Everything in order,' he signed to her, 'but found something odd. Don't remember packing it.'

She cocked her head. 'What?'

He held out a large, yellow clay jar. It was tightly sealed with wax around the rim. 'Three others, too.'

Lovisa let out a hoarse laugh. 'That for Baylee, Galiene!' she told him. 'Preserved lemons."

Bifur looked at her oddly. 'Can preserve lemons?'

Stiffly standing up, she nodded and took the jar from him. 'Are tasty. Would let taste one, but not want open jar. When get back to Dale, will let taste.'

He looked down at the jar for a moment, his brows furrowed in thought.

'What?' She wiped the ointment pot down, ridding it of any stray lotion.

'How lemons preserved?'

'Salt, lemon slices, lemon juice. Sometimes herbs added. No herbs with these.'

Bifur's brow slowly rose as he glanced back down at the jar. 'Would not think salted lemons taste good…'

She let out another hoarse laugh. 'Not salty. Promise.' Taking the yellow jar from him, she tucked it under her arm before daring to kiss his cheek. 'Thank you.' And then she walked off, leaving Bifur standing there, blushing and confused.

'What did I do?' he thought, head tilting to the side.

"And ya promise she won't be killed…?"

"I swear to you, Lady Baylee. She is being cooperative and has not tried to resist us. She does not want harm to befall her people."

Baylee nodded in understanding. "Good…She helped me an' Ori a lot. I don't want t' see her killed." She winced slightly as she rested against the wagon, though she ignored the pain in her leg as she looked over at the dwarves as they were helped into their saddles. "Rán…why is Girish saddling up as well?"

She looked at the younger woman, chuckling. "By his request, I have relieved Girish of his duties as a ranger," she explained. "It seems that his heart now lies within in Dale."

"Really?" Her brows rose, amused, as Rán nodded. "Do you know who or what owns it now?"

"Apparently, the golden-haired maiden at your inn."

Her eyes widened. "Ya mean Wenna?!" Rán nodded, quietly laughing once more. "Well now, this should give her a proper surprise," she chuckled.

"And it will give you and your family a long-time customer," Rán added. "Though, he does need to work on his Westron…"

Baylee gave her a reassuring smile. "I'm sure we'll have him near fluent by the time we get back t' Dale," she told her. "We'll take care o' him."

"And he will also be able to help protect you and the others, since he suffered hardly any injury during the fight last week," Rán added. "Which, by the way…I am still left baffled as to how you and your brother are healing so quickly."

She shrugged, though mentally rolled her eyes. 'You and everyone else in this place,' she thought. "We've always been fast healers," is what she instead said. A shadow suddenly towered over her and she looked up, watching as Will came towards them. "Is it time t' go?" she asked her twin.

He nodded. "Aye, it is. C'mon, let's get you in the wagon."

Turning to Rán again, she gave her a small smile. "Goodbye, Rán. Thank you for all the help you've given t' us an' continue t' give. I hope we can meet again –under better circumstances." She gave the ranger a last hug.

Hugging her in return, Rán forced herself to smile. "I wish your journey goes well and I pray for an even faster recovery for you all," she replied, stepping back. She managed to force a smile that seemed natural enough. "Take care, Lady Baylee."

"You as well, Rán."

As Baylee was helped into the cart, Rán left the company and went to the north gate of the city. It was closed, so rarely was it used thanks to the trade from the east. Giving the order for it to be opened, she went up the steps and stood near the tower on the wall, her arms crossed over her chest. Soon enough, seven horses and a wagon left the city through the gate. Her gaze fixed onto the group, watching as they slowly shrank into the distance.

"Treat her well," she whispered.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Ori quietly hummed as he stirred a pot of rabbit stew. It had only been cooking for a quarter of an hour, but it was already making his stomach rumble in anticipation. He glanced over at Lovisa, who currently had her back to him. Grinning cheekily, he dared to lean forward and steal a taste of the dinner. The action earned him a small knock on the noggin from Nori as he and Zori came to sit next to him.

"What was that for?" Ori frowned.

"You're startin' to pick up my bad habits," Nori replied.

"I was just seeing if it needed any seasoning."

Nori's brow rose. "Mhm. That wasn't the first taste you've stolen, lad, and you've not added anything to it." Leaning over, he traded Ori's wooden spoon for Zori, grinning as Ori managed to awkwardly hold the child. Zori cooed happily as he gummed away on a wooden horse that Bofur had carved for him over the week.

Ori shifted, starting to lightly bounce his nephew on his knee while holding onto him with his good hand. "Why is it always me you give Zori too?"

"That's not true. I've passed him off to Lovisa, Baylee, and even Will plenty o' times."

"More like they steal him from you."

He shrugged. "Either way. He's your nephew, you know. You need to get used to watching him –especially if Dwalin lives up to his threat of kidnapping him from me."

Rolling his eyes, Ori fixed the crooked cap Zori wore. "He won't take Zori from you, Nori. He may threaten an' joke about doing so, but he won't actually do it." His brows furrowed slightly as he tucked part of the cap behind Zori's ear, which seemed unusually pointed to him. He had noticed it in the past, but had made no mention of it to his brother, thinking that Zori just had to grow into them.

"Is something wrong?"

Glancing up at Nori, he quickly shook his head. "No, no…just thought somethin' was off, but it isn't."

"What do you mean?" Nori asked, frowning.

Ori nonchalantly shrugged. "It's nothing. I just thought his ear was a tad bit…pointed for being a human child."

Nori watched him from the corner of his eye. "…You've noticed it, too?" His voice was quiet and solemn.

He looked up at his brother. "What?"

Nori slowly nodded. "Aye, I've seen it, too. Since he's started gaining weight, he's grown a bit and his ears are getting a bit more prominent." He rubbed the back of his neck. "You don't think he could be…?"

Ori looked down at the child; Zori was happily growling at his wooden horse as he covered it in drool. "He could very well be. You don't know what his parents were."

"I'm positive he's not a…full one." He sighed, closing his eyes. "He doesn't have that much charm about him. Not that the 'fair folk' have personality…we dwarrows are much more friendly."

"I don't know…It had to take quite a bit to make you of all people to keep him and decide to raise him."

Nori shot him a small glare. "Well, I couldn't just give him up, you know –he had grown fond of me," he defensively told his little brother. "It would be a shame to just give him up after everything he had gone through. What if he didn't like the new parents as much? He'd grow up not feeling much affection for them. That'd be a shame on all fronts."

Ori's brow rose. "I've seen you play with him, Nori. You adore this lil' guy." He smiled at Zori and lightly rubbed his nose against his. "Whether he's elf or not."

"Don't call him an elf," Nori grumbled. "Even if he has…that kind of blood in him, he's my son and that's makes him a dwarf." He stirred the stew as it started to violently bubble. "Have the carrots been added into this?"

Shaking his head, Ori managed to turn Zori around to face Nori. "No. They haven't even been sliced yet."

With a sigh, Nori reached down into the dinner basket and pulled out a carrot and a knife. He started to peel the carrots, not realizing that Zori was watching him with great intent. After peeling the carrot, he leaned forward and started to cut it into small rounds, which landed with small 'plops' into the stew.

'There are only two races with pointed ears,' thought Nori, 'but only one of them lives on this side of the Misty Mountains. Otherwise, we would have heard about hobbits long before Mister Baggins…' He stirred the carrot pieces into the stew, watching as they disappeared into the thick, white broth. 'So that does make him at least part elf. If he's full, though, I don't think the dwarrows back home will like him being in the city…'

He stole a glance at Ori and Zori, finding that Ori was 'dancing' with the child. A small smile came to his features. 'Elf or not, he's my son now and that makes him an honorary dwarf. He's of the Ri clan now, like it or not.' He reached into the basket for another carrot, but paused as he heard a small 'Ahpa' come from his right. Looking over his shoulder, he saw Zori leaning over, trying to reach him.

"Ahpa! Ahpa!" His right hand was clenching onto the horse while the other opened and closed; both were stretched towards him.

"That's right, I'm your papa," he quietly chuckled, taking him back. He sat him down between his legs, Zori's back resting against his stomach. "And you're my Zori."

"Ahpa?"

"Z-or-ee." He plucked up the second carrot and began to peel it, the orange peels falling to the ground like rain.

Zori's head tilted as he watched the pieces fall. "...Ahwee?"

"Z-or-ee." Nori started to cut it up now.

He tried to grab a fistful of peeks. "Ohee."

"Close enough. Those are icky, put them down." He smiled slightly, taking the peels from his son and tossing them into the fire.

Ori softly laughed, shaking his head. "You may not admit it, but you enjoy being a dad."

Nori sighed in defeat. "Just…don't let the others know 'bout Zori's heritage, alright? I don't need them hatin' him."

"They can't hate him; he's a baby! Who in their right mind hates babies?"

He gave his brother a dry look. "You know what I mean, Ori."

"Yes, but I'm just letting you know –none o' them will hate a baby. Yes, they may not enjoy the fact tha' he's part elf, but…" He looked down at Zori, smiling. "It's not his fault. He's too cute to dislike, anyway." He carefully smooshed Zori's cheeks together, making him giggle. "He's got such chubby cheeks now!"

Nori laughed out loud. "Aye, he does. I reckon he's gained a good five pounds since I've saved him. Soon enough, I bet, he'll be a lil' crawling ball of chub."

"As any good dwarrowling should be." He gave his brother an assuring smile only to get patted on the back.

"Aye, don't you know it."

 

A hiss of pain left Baylee's mouth as she slowly massaged her hip. It was aching something awful after just a few hours of riding, almost making her regret choosing the pony over the wagon. Despite this, she kept her pain to herself, not wanting to worry anyone –especially Will or Lovisa. They were already too preoccupied with the rationing of supplies and their own wounds. She looked down at the fabric covering her side and pulled her shirt up a bit. The bandages wrapped around her hips had some stains on them, but they were from the beginning of the trip and had gone through some washings since then.

Relieved to see no fresh blood, she tucked her shirt back into her trousers and leaned back against the wheel of the wagon. She slowly brought her leg up, leaving the other stretched out. 'Can't wait for this pain to go away,' she thought. 'It's really cumbersome and making me feel useless…' Thanks to her crutches, she couldn't do much around the camps they made at night unless she was sitting.

"Yeh hungry, lass?"

Her eyes opened and she looked up to find Dwalin standing beside her, two bowls in his hand. The bandages around his head were still there, but they covered much less area now that his eye socket had healed a bit. She gave him a small smile. "Aye I am."

"Then have some stew." He held out one of the bowls to her. "Nori an' Ori helped make it, so I can't guarantee it's any good." After she took it, he leaned against the wagon, starting to eat.

Brushing some hair behind her ear, she rested the bowl atop her knee. "I've survived Will's cookin'; I think I can survive theirs," she chuckled. "How're your injuries doin'?"

He gave a small nod as he chewed a bit of rabbit. "Some o' them still hurt, but I'm well on my way t' bein' mended. My socket itches somethin' awful, though, an' I can't even rub it t' relieve the feelin'."

"I know how that goes," she agreed, "only it's my hip. I don't think I should ride again for a couple of days; it's aching horribly."

"Just give it some time an' it'll be all healed up again. Though, I'm surprised the warg didn't outright crush yer bones. Yer a wee lass, Baylee, an' the bite o' a warg that size is nothin' t' laugh at." He poked around his stew, looking for more rabbit meat. "Though, I got t' hand it t' yeh, lass –yeh did a good job protectin' Ori."

She glanced up at him as she chewed on a bit of carrot; it could have been left in the stew a bit longer, but it was still edible. "I did?"

He nodded. "Aye, yeh did. Some o' the ranger women an' Ori were tellin' me 'bout it." Fishing the last bit of meat from his stew, he slowly chewed it. "Yeh were apparently quite the feisty lil' fighter!"

Her cheeks turning a bit pink, she managed a tiny smile. "That's what Bofur was tellin' me…He said I could have been a female dwarf, I was hoppin' around so much on the battlefield."

Dwalin laughed. "Is tha' so? Cannae say I saw yeh fightin' much; I was too busy bludgeonin' things. I'll take his word for it, though."

"Truthfully, I don't remember much of any o' the fights," she sighed. She ate some more of the broth. "I just want t' forget most o' it. I can fight, but that doesn't make me a fighter."

"Aye, that's true, lass, but what yeh did…Not many human women would do that." He shrugged, drinking the rest of his dinner right from the bowl. "If yeh were a dwarf, yer actions would earn yeh a warrior's mark."

She glanced up at him. "Warriors mark?"

He held up his knuckles, showing her the tattoos on them. "Tattoos. Some o' them are t' denote what clan yer from, others, yer job. But these ones…" He rubbed his head, sighing. "They're t' show others how good yeh are in battle. They're always in a visible area so tha' folk can know not t' mess with yeh."

"Huh…Interestin'," she murmured. She had always known he had tattoos, but she had never really stopped to take the time to look them over. Now that she was inspecting them, however, she saw intricately some of them were and how straight and linear the lines were.

"I know yer family has a bit o' a fascination with our culture," he chuckled, "so I was goin' t' ask yer brother if he wanted me t' give him one."

"Knowin' Will, he'd love that."

He nodded slowly, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. "If yeh want, yeh can have one, too. I mean, yeh did fight just as much as the rest o' us." His tone was casual enough, but Baylee could tell that he was trying to convince her to get one.

As such, she lightly shook her head and quietly laughed. "We'll see. I'm not sure how I feel 'bout the idea o' a needle repeatedly gettin' stabbed into my skin."

"Not so bad after the first couple dozen strikes." He looked at her bowl, finding it nearly empty. "Yeh want more, lass?"

For a moment, she was quiet as she pondered the question. Her stomach didn't feel entirely full just yet, but at the same time, she knew she couldn't eat an entire bowlful. As such, she handed the bowl up to him. "Aye, please –though, just fill it halfway. I don't think I could eat an entire second bowl."

"Understandable, lass," he chuckled. Taking the bowl from him, he wandered back towards the fire. He grabbed the ladle and refilled his bowl and half of Baylee's, Bofur coming to stand by him while he did so.

"You tryin' t' convince Baylee t' get a warriors mark?" Bofur quietly asked.

He shrugged. "Just passed the idea along t' her. She seems a bit interested, though there may the whole stigma o' the fact that she's a human."

Bofur quietly chuckled. "Well, if she does choose t' get it, I'm sure the two o' you could find a spot that makes it subtle."

Dwalin glanced down at him, chuckling. "What, yeh wouldn't want her t' have it on her face like other lasses?"

"…Well, I wouldn't be opposed t' it, but how many humans do you see walkin' 'round with big ol' tattoos on their faces?" He took the half-full bowl from Dwalin. "I think she's pretty enough as is, ink or not. But, if she were t' get the tattoo…" Innocently shrugging, he grinned and walked off.

"O' course yeh would." Dwalin shook his head, amused, and went to go sit between Ori and Bifur.

~*~*~*~*~*~

The days passed by without incident. So little had happened, in fact, that everyone was beginning to get bored from the lack of excitement. Even Baylee, as peaceful of a person as she was, felt like she would go bonkers if something didn't happen soon.

Luck was once more in their favor, for just when they were about to go insane, something did happen.

The company was about four days (by Will's reckoning) from Dale and had stopped for their midday rest when a small flock of ravens flew overhead. They came to land nearby, catching the attention of a buck-naked Zori. He was starting to crawl towards them only to be plucked up by Baylee. He whined and writhed in protest, doing his best to pout at her, but it failed.

"You silly lil' thing," she cooed, holding him against her shoulder. She winced as she walked; without her crutches, it was still a very painful process. "Those birdies are twice your size, wee one. They'd fly off with you." She started to limp back towards the group, flinching with almost every step. When he continued to whine, she pulled him back and blew a raspberry on his belly, earning giggles from him.

"Curious that there would be a flock of ravens this far out," Nori murmured, staring at the birds. He took a bite of beef as Baylee set Zori on the ground in front of him. "They tend to prefer stayin' close to Erebor…"

Will glanced up, slowly munching away on a bit of cracker. He tilted his head slightly, his brow rising. "Aren't those the king's ravens…?" he asked, looking at his sister.

"In all honesty, I wouldn't know. I've never seen them," she replied. She eased herself down onto the ground, her eyes shut as she slowly exhaled. The pain slowly left her leg, fading from a sharp pain to a dull throb.

"Leg still hurtin' somethin' awful?" Bofur came over, holding two bowls of meat, sliced fruit, and crackers. He handed one to her and kissed her temple before sitting down beside her.

"Aye, but not as bad as when we first set out. Thank you." She started to nibble at a bit of meat.

Will shook his head. "We'll get you looked at as soon as we're back in Dale," he told her. "Uncle should be able to figure out why you're not healin' as fast as the rest o' us."

"Tooth in bone," Bifur piped up, though he spoke slowly and methodically, trying to pronounce everything correctly. "Slow heal. Always slow heal." He crunched into some meat and cheese that he had wedged between two crackers.

"Gettin' better with your words!" Bofur grinned. "Keep practicin' an' we'll have Bombur surprised soon enough." He shoved almost a whole cracker into his mouth, happily crunching away. As he ate, he subtly slipped his free arm around Baylee's waist and tugged her just a bit closer to him. Hearing her soft giggle, he smiled.

Bifur shrugged. "Westron hard relearn. Take time."

Dwalin patted him on the back. "Yer doin' good, though, lad," he assured him. He then looked over at the ravens. One of them was hopping closer to the group and he cocked his brow, his head tilting slightly. He tossed a bit of cracker over, watching as the raven gobbled it up. "Yer a hungry bird, aren't yeh?"

"As you would certainly be if you had flown for half a day!"

The cracker Dwalin held fell from his hands as he stared at the bird. He wasn't the only one to stare, however –the rest of the company, save for Zori, was gawking at the bird.

Noticing this, the raven let out a harsh cackle. "Clearly you have not heard a raven speak before!"

"Oh, no," Bofur blinked, "we have –before the Battle o' Five Armies. It's just we didn't expect you lot to be some o' Carc's folk!"

The raven hopped over, tilting his large head this way and that as he looked over the group. "So then this is the group of travelers who went in search of those who had been kidnapped?"

"Aye, we are."

"There are more heads than what I had been told to count. Two more, in fact! A hatchling and one who has seen many summers pass by. But this is good news. We were told to seek out the group of nine and finding eleven instead is better than finding seven."

"Who sent you?" Will asked.

"The kings of Dale and of Erebor, of course!" The raven spread a wing and picked at it with his beak for a few minutes. "They have sent us to scour the lands before them so that we may bring back any news to them and so that they can meet you."

Baylee gawked at the raven. "They…they've set out for us?"

Nodding, the raven stretched both wings, flapping them idly before settling down in the soft grass. "Too long you have taken to return; they had grown uneasy and with so little news, they gathered their best and left. Lord Dain remains in Erebor; however, King Bard does come forth with soldiers. Both men and dwarves there are! The finest in the two cities. Two elves there are as well, though they come on behalf of neither king, but rather on behalf of their love of the innkeeper's children. They number only twenty, but they are hardy and will do well against foes should a fight take place."

"Well, they needn't worry about any fights," Will told him. "We left those behind us."

"As I can see! You are all marked with battle-injury –save for the hatchling. The kings, I fear, will not be entirely pleased by this news, but such things happen when one's kin is taken hostage! As the human walks, they are a day away from here, but riding ever closer. My flock and I will fly back and tell them of this good news…but first, we have traveled far. May we have food?"

Will and Dwalin both got to their feet and dug out spare crackers before grinding them up into large crumbs and pouring them into one of the smaller pots. The ravens thanked them and started to eat only to be further delighted as they were also given bits of meat. Zori watched them the whole while, entranced by their glossy feathers and wide wings.

Bofur, meanwhile, fed Baylee a bit of his cheese. "I didn't know ya had elvish friends…"

She lightly shrugged. "Our family has a few o' them –mostly the ones tha' like t' come t' the inn for drinks when Mirkwood's run out o' wine. I don't know who'd come all this way t' help look for us, though." She rested her head against his shoulder. "Don't worry; I don't plan t' run off with an elvish boyo."

He chuckled. "I wasn't thinkin' about tha'," he told her. "Just…curious that they came out here is all."

"It is," she admitted. She looked up as Will came over to them, bearing a clay bottle. "Heya, Will," she smiled.

He crouched down, handing the bottle to her; Baylee frowned in disgust. "You need t' drink some o' this," he told her, a knowing look on his features. "I know ya don't like it, but it seems t' help take the pain away."

"It tastes horrible," she sighed. Inside the bottle was a concoction they had picked up in the last village they had passed by. The healer had sworn that the contents would help relieve pain for an entire day on just two, small drinks. After discovering that it was true –despite Baylee's complaint that it tasted like rancid cheese- Will had bought three bottles.

Taking the bottle from her twin, she uncorked it and closed her eyes. As she took a sip, she heard Will and Bofur crack up; her face had contorted into one of pure disgust. Taking a second drink of the stuff, she stuck her tongue out and corked the bottle, thrusting it back into Will's hands.

"Get it away from me," she gagged.

Will laughed and ruffled her hair. "You may not have to drink it must longer, from the sounds of it," he assured her. "If there's a small army comin', then that means healers. An' that means no more of this stuff, even though it does seem t' work with ya."

Baylee looked up at her twin, a rather pathetic look on her face. "I think I'd rather some o' uncle's medicines than this stuff," she told him. "Have ya tasted it?"

"I haven't been in much pain."

"Take a drink. You'll see why I cringe."

Raising his brow, Will uncorked the bottle and tossed back a drink of it. He instantly regretted it. Shoving the cork into the bottle, he started to splutter and cough, his tongue hanging out of his mouth as he tried to get the taste out of his mouth as quickly as possible. Girish and Ori, having seen what transpired, joined in with Baylee and Bofur's laughter.

"Alright, alright," Will finally wheezed. "I see your point –this stuff is nasty. But just because it tastes nasty doesn't mean it hasn't been workin', so until you get looked over by uncle or someone just as good as him, you're goin' t' keep drinkin' it." He once more spat on the ground, the taste still filling his mouth.

"I know," she replied, offering him a cracker.

Bofur chuckled and shook his head. "If I didn't know the stuff was medicine, I'd think the two o' you were crazy for even tryin' it. The smell alone is bad enough! Why risk the taste?" He popped a bit of meat into his mouth, though something in the corner of his eye caught his attention. "Ah, hello there, Zori. Are you on another adventure, laddie?"

"Avoidin' his bath is what he's doin'," Nori answered as he snatched up the child. "He knows what's comin' and is trying to hide from me." Zori wriggled, but laughed as Nori tickled his sides. "Come along, lil' one. You stink." He walked over towards the stream, the ravens taking off to the north so that they could deliver the news.

"So I guess now the question is whether we stay here an' wait for the others or continue on to meet them," Ori suddenly spoke, drawing most everyone's attention. "Personally, I think we should move on a bit. We don't really have any protection from the sun out here an' it looks like there's some sort o' forest in the distance."

"I doubt that it's a forest; we're still almost a week out o' Dale an' the closet forest t' Dale is Mirkwood," Will told him. "If anything, it's the beginnin' o' the hills outside o' the city. They sometimes look like forests when they're this far away."

Shading his eye, Dwalin peered out into the distance. "Hills or trees, my vote is t' keep movin'. I don't like stayin' still this long, even if help is on the way."

"Same," came the chorus of agreement from others.

"Will start pack wagon," Bifur slowly told the others as he stood up. Taking Lovisa's empty bowl, he began to collect the empty dishes from the rest of the company, getting himself a nice, tall stack by the time he reached the wagon.

Lovisa stood and began to clean up the sacks and barrels they had gotten into for food. Hoisting a barrel of cured meat over her shoulder, she winced in pain (for her ribs were still hurt) before also plucking up the small barrel that held their crackers. Her strength still managed to surprise the dwarves, who, thanks to Lovisa's height, were constantly forgetting that she was half dwarf.

Setting the barrels down on the floor of the wagon, she gave them both a shove, wedging them back into their places with the other supplies. Beside her was Bifur; he was patting the bottoms of each bowl, freeing them of any remaining meat or bread crumbs before tucking them back into their basket. He glanced up at the half-dwarf, giving her a small smile as he caught her watching him. A cheeky grin came to her features before patted him on the back.

'Good job,' she signed to him. 'Help hitch horses?'

Bifur nodded as he pushed the basket towards the middle of the wagon. Lovisa started to walk off towards the horses, which were grazing some yards away, and he followed behind her. His head cocked to the side as he (unconsciously) noticed that her hips seemed to have a bit more of a sway to them than normal. Of course, he promptly gave himself a mental smack across the head when he noticed that he was staring at her hindquarters.

He was a gentledwarf; staring like that was improper of him.

…And yet, the view was quite pleasing.

He mentally smacked himself again.

~*~

The sun was just ready to dip beneath the western horizon when the company decided to make camp for the night. Will, Girish, and Tyko were helping the dwarves and Baylee from their horses when a great chorus of cawing filled the night. Looking to the north, the group could see riders in the distance. Overheard, the sky was turned black by the flock of ravens that circled above them, letting the riders know of their position.

"Stay here," Will ordered before mounting his horse again. He rode off into the distance, intending to meet with the oncoming riders. He did not have to ride far; within ten minutes, he had halted his horse as the small army ceased riding as well.

"Will!"

His eyes shot open as someone rode towards him. "Dad?" he called, shielding his eyes against the dying sunlight. When he saw that the rider was, indeed, his father, he laughed and dismounted. "Da'! It is you!"

Warren grinned as he dismounted. "We got too anxious waitin' for ya, lad!" he laughed, pulling his son into a tight bear-hug. "Where are the others?"

"'Bout a mile further," he answered, wincing slightly as his dad gave him a tight squeeze. "Careful, da', I've got a few hurts about me."

Pulling back slightly, Warren squinted through the dying light to look his son over. "Aye, that you do," he frowned. "Please tell me your sister isn't hurt."

Will glanced away, biting his lower lip. "Well…t' tell you the truth, da'…we all got hurt. Some worse than others, but we're all up an' walking." He looked up as a black horse came over to them; its rider was Bard. Will gave a slight bow, feeling the muscles in his back twinge slightly. "Good evening, my lord, Bard."

"It is indeed a good evening," Bard smiled. "We're glad to have found you all once again. I take it you have ridden ahead of the others?"

He nodded. "They're making camp for the night," he explained. "We're all rather tired after bein' on the road for so long –especially at the start o' summer."

Bard let out a quiet laugh. "I would imagine," he agreed. "Soon enough, the lot of you will be returned home and you can sleep in your own beds and return to your normal lives again."

"Speakin' o' which, Will…" Warren gave his son a stern look. "We've got t' talk about Adela."

Will flinched. "Er…aye, I know, da', I know." He smiled innocently. "Not in front o' the king, though…"

 

Within an hour, the two groups had come together. Not only had Warren come, but Richard, Dori, and Bombur as well. Warren and Richard had seemed rather heartbroken when they found Baylee limping and missing two fingers, but they were quickly cheered up again when she practically tackled them to the ground. Bombur was more than a little relieved to find his brother and cousin whole, having fretted quite a bit about their safety when he had heard the news.

Dori, on the other hand…

Dori was _fuming_.

Seeing his younger brothers, he got down from his pony and stormed right over to them. "What in the world were you thinking!?" he snarled, jabbing his finger into Nori's chest. "Goin' off after Ori without telling me? Did you think I wouldn't find out? Did you even think?!"

Nori smacked his hand away. "Excuse me, but we couldn't waste any time sendin' word to Erebor about what had happened! We had to get on the trail of the kidnappers right away if we wanted even a slim chance o' finding them."

"I didn't know for a week, Nori! Do you know how worried I was when I heard the-" He paused as a quiet whining came from behind Nori.

"Oh, now you've gone an' done it," Ori scolded. "We had just managed t' get him to sleep…"

Dori's brows were knitted together as he watched Nori sling something from his back. His eyes widened and he let out an uncharacteristic curse as he saw his middle brother pull a child from a sling. "What in Aulë's name…?"

Standing up, Nori plopped Zori into the stunned Dori's arms. "This is your new nephew," he told Dori. "His name is Zori. I rescued him. You woke him up when Ori an' I had just managed t' get him to sleep after an hour. As such, it's you who gets to put him back to sleep."

Dori stared at the child for a moment, watching as Zori fussed and squirmed in his blankets. His half-closed, blue eyes looked up at his uncle, both tired and confused. Dori then looked up at Nori, who wore a look that was a cross between amused and irritated. Finally, he glanced at Ori, who was hiding a yawn –or laughter, he couldn't really tell- behind his hand.

"You named him Zori?" he asked, his tone almost pathetic sounding.

"May as well keep it in the family," Nori shrugged. "He is my son, after all. It was almost Tori, but I thought Zori more fittin'."

Nodding slowly, Dori started to instinctively rock Zori and coo at him, trying to get him to quiet down. "What happened to your arm, Ori?"

"Broke it. Got attacked by a warg, but Nori gored it before it could do any worse." He lightly shrugged. "Not nearly as bad as Dwalin…He lost an eye. Will got mauled across the face and shoulders an' Baylee got pretty bitten up on her thigh as well as got two fingers chopped off. Zori there is the only one who didn't get hurt, honestly."

Dori frowned, shaking his head. "All that because of some raiders…? That's insane…"

"They were warg riders," Nori told him. "And their wargs were about twice the size of any warg we had seen." He glanced down at his little brother. "We've quite the tale to tell over the next few days, don't we, Ori?"

Ori nodded vigorously. "That we do," he grinned. "And I'll make sure to get it all written down when we're back home."

"Of course you will," Dori said, taking a seat beside Ori. He looked back down at Zori, finding that the child had stopped fussing and was now just watching him. "…He is a bit of a cutie, though," he admitted, smiling fondly. It was a well-known fact that Dori had a soft spot for children.

"He's cute –until he farts. Then he becomes a lil' stinker," Nori grinned, sitting down again as well. "Which, he may start doin' soon. He had a nice, big dinner of bits of fruit and cheese.

As if on cue, there came a high-pitched noise from Zori's hindquarters. Nori and Ori burst out laughing as Dori did his best to fan his noise.

"By Aulë's beard!" Dori gagged. "That is potent!" He couldn't help but burst into a laughing fit, though. "Just like Nori when he was a wee tyke!"

Nori suddenly stopped laughing. "I was not!" he argued.

"Oh, yes you were! Don't you even try to deny it –you laughed every time mother and I were forced to change your diapers, they were that bad."

"I guess it runs in the family then," Ori snickered, having scooted away from his brothers and nephew. "Zori a big stinker just like Nori."

Dori's laughter began anew while Nori did his best to look angry.

He most certainly was not a big stinker.


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ugh, I'm sorry I keep taking so long to update this. I've been suffering from a lack of inspiration these last few months, but it seems with the potential coming of rain, my inspiration has returned -at least, a little bit. So, for the few who keep reading this, despite my length in between chapters, thank you. You guys are what keep me reading~!

Dawn of the next morning brought grey clouds and threatened a strong chance for rain later in the day. The sudden change in weather from warm to cold did no good for the group of injured travelers, especially those who had wounds in the bone. Lovisa felt stiff and much too achy to do much -Bifur had to help her sit up and absolutely refused to let her help with the food preparations; Ori could hardly move his arm without bringing about some small bolt of pain streaking up to his shoulder; and Warren had to carry Baylee to the wagon because her leg hurt so bad.

“I really hope the rain holds off ‘til we at least get a little ways further from the river,” Warren sighed, staring a rather flattened seed cake that Galiene had sent with him. Breaking it in half, he offered the larger piece to his son.

“Why’s that?” Ori asked, glancing up from his porridge.

Bard set down his flask and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. “If it were to storm, the river could possibly flood,” he explained to the dwarf. “It would wash us away if we weren’t far enough from its shores. A flooded river on ground such as this has no care ‘bout where it’s bed it; it goes where it wants.”

Ori cringed, not enjoying the idea of that at all. “How far away from it are we going to get?”

“With luck, we’ll be at least five miles from it –for the time being, at least. We will need to head west again once we reach Dale.”

“We should cross now.” An elven man came towards the group and their fire, bringing with him two steaming mugs. Kneeling beside Ori, he set the smaller mug on the ground beside him. “Drink this,” he instructed, “but slowly. It will help with the ache in your arm.”

Glancing down at the mug, Ori raised a brow, not entirely sure if he wanted to drink the elvish concoction. “Thank you,” he murmured.

The elf held out his arm, offering the other mug to Warren. “And this will help you with that cough you’ve had,” he told him.

Will frowned and looked at his father as he chewed on the seedcake. “You’ve had a cough?”

Warren waved his hand dismissively as he took a mug. “It’s my normal summer cough,” he told him. “Don’t worry ‘bout it, lad.” He gave him a reassuring smile before taking a drink of the liquid; he cringed slightly and stuck out his tongue.

Ori, who had been taking a drink at the same moment, pursed his lips and clenched his eyes shut.

“I never said it tasted good,” the elf laughed, seeing Warren and Ori’s expressions. “I only said that it will help.

Warren scrunched his nose up and took a second drink before hastily putting the cup back on the ground. “I think that’s worse than the stuff Richard was havin’ me drink, Rhovathor,” he told him. “But it is already helpin’. My throat’s not as scratchy.”

Rhovathor chuckled. “See? While it may taste quite bad, it does help.” He turned back to Ori. “It’ll take more than one drink for your medicine to take effect, master dwarf. I suggest saving the rest of your breakfast for when you finish the medicine; it’ll help wash away the taste faster.”

Nodding slowly, Ori did his best to chug the rest of the drink; it was a hard task thanks to it still being quite hot and how bitter it tasted. The liquid dribbling down the corners of his mouth, he winced and pulled the mug from his face, wiping his chin clean with his sleeve.

Will cocked a brow as he chewed a bit of bacon. “I’m suddenly findin’ myself even more glad that I don’t have any sort o’ problems with my insides right now,” he murmured.

The elf looked at him, smirking. “Oh, do not count yourself out in the clear just yet, William. Your uncle is preparing some salves for your injuries as I speak –and they are quite potent.”

“Smell wise or medicinal strength wise?”

“Yes.”

As Will groaned, Warren chuckled, lightly patting him on the back. “Don’t worry, lad. You’re almost healed as is. Ya won’t take long t’ finish.”

“He should be looking over Baylee’s leg, not worrying over me,” Will sighed. “She can hardly walk an’ it’s been two weeks!”

Bard glanced up. “What sort of wounds did she receive?” he inquired.

“A warg chomped on her hip,” Ori answered. “And she got stuck with some arrows. Before all that, though, the queen o’ the raiders chopped off the third finger on each o’ her hands.” He forced himself to swallow the last of his medicine.

Rhovathor scratched his chin, thinking. “Such wounds do take time, but the Braddock family is comprised of fast healers…” He stood up and straightened his tunic out. “Regardless, I will see to her; no doubt her uncle already has, but a second opinion is always helpful with medicine.”

As the elf left, Bard glanced over at Will and Warren; the former was attempting to finish his medicine without recoiling while his son was brushing the crumbs from his shirt. He knew full well that these two men were some of Dale’s best warriors, and not just because of their sheer size. They were both intelligent when it came to battles, something that Bard was sure wasn’t mere intuition. He had often wondered if it had anything to do with Warren’s life before Lake Town and Dale.

When Ori had wandered off to go clean up and pack for the day, Bard spoke. “Warren, William…Why aren’t either of you in the army? With your strength and intelligence, you could quickly rise through the ranks to be captains or generals.”

“I was in an army once,” Warren told him, “but it was a life I didn’t want, so I left.”

“You abandoned the army?”

“No. I asked for leave an’ it was granted. As such, I came t’ Lake Town, where I found my purpose in life –t’ be a good husband an’ father.” He smiled as he glanced at his son. “A role Will here will soon be learning.”

Bard nodded slowly in understanding. “And what of you, William?”

Will shrugged, patting his injured. “I’m not o’ much use anymore. I’m almost lame in my arm an’ I wear out too easily now. After Five Armies…” He shook his head. “I’m better suited for carpentry and mug-filling.”

“And yet, by all accounts, you fought bravely when it came to fighting against the warg riders,” Bard mused. “I merely inquire because men like the two of you don’t come along every day and any king would be thankful to have you in his army.”

“Thank you, milord,” Warren replied with a small nod of his head. “We’re honored that ya think of us at such a high caliber, but we’re just not made for fightin’.”

A reassuring smile came to Bard’s face. “I understand,” he told him. “Just know that if ever you change your mind, there are spots open for the both of you.”

“If ever you need an ambassador to Erebor, I’m your man,” Warren joked. “Until then…”

“You never know,” Bard mused, “I may have need of one someday.”

Warren chuckled, brushing the crumbs out of his beard. He glanced up as Rhovathor returned; he wasn’t brought much comfort when he saw the elf rubbing his brow. “What is it?” he demanded, frowning.

“The reason she’s still in pain is because there’s still a bit of tooth stuck in the wound,” the elf replied. “It’s small and almost undetectable thanks to being stained with blood, but it’s in there.”

Will’s eyes widened. “Can you get it out? Is she going to be alright?”

Rhovathor rubbed his brow again. “I’ll have to do a bit of surgery while we’re on the move today,” he explained, crouching down and gathering up the still-full tea kettle. “Caranonel can feel a storm fast approaching. It will be unwise to linger here any longer. I will be in the wagon with Baylee; if you need anything, seek out my sister.”

Warren got to his feet and excused himself from the group, moving to follow Rhovathor. “Is it infected?” he quietly asked, coming alongside the elf.

Rhovathor nodded. “And there are signs of the infection beginning to spread,” he replied. “If we had met any later, I am positive we would have to remove her leg. As it stands, though, I will be able to help her.”

“Good, good…Do ya know if she’ll be able t’ walk normally again after this?”

He sighed. “That I cannot tell you. The wound is rather traumatic for a person of her size; she could end up walking normally after it’s healed or she could forever have to use crutches. It’s still too early yet to tell.”

For a moment, Warren closed his eyes, sending a silent prayer to Estë for a quick recovery for his daughter. “I trust your work, Rhovathor,” he told him. “You’ve proved more than once that you’re a capable healer. Baylee will be fine in your hands.”

“I’m glad that you have so much faith in me,” Rhovathor chuckled. “Even though I’m an elf, not many would put their daughter’s life in my hands.”

Warren rolled his eyes. “I’ve known ya since I was a lad, Rhovathor. I’ve seen you save countless lives over the years.” He glanced at the elf; he looked nothing like the elves that came from Mirkwood, for his hair was black and his skin as white as snow. “Though, I must admit tha’ something’s been on my mind.”

“My presence on this side of the Misty Mountains?”

“Aye.”

For a moment, Rhovathor was silent. As they approached the wagon where Baylee was resting, he set his hand on the wood, but paused before he could hop in. “You humans call it intuition,” he finally replied. “The world is changing, Warren, and I believe it will start here, in the eastern shadow of the mountains. Your father sent me to watch over you and your family.”

Warren rubbed his forehead. “So he’s still alive, is he?” The elf nodded. “His mantle must be greyer than ash by now. Does he send any tidings?”

“No more than usual. Arnor is still held fast against its enemies, but every year, more and more come into our lands.”

“And I suppose he still wishes that I hadn’t left.”

Rhovathor nodded. “He still laments how the greatest protector of the Shire had forsaken his duty-”

“I didn’t forsake my duty. I wanted a family and I knew I couldn’t have one when I was with the Dúnedain!”

Rhovathor held up his hands in a gesture of defense. “I am only telling you the words he spoke. I understand your need for a family; I long for one myself.” He glanced over his shoulder, into the wagon, as he heard a hiss of pain. “I need to tend to Baylee,” he sighed. “You should pack up and make ready to leave.”

Warren nodded. “Just…just be careful with her, alright? She’s a wee lil’ thing an’-”

“I know, Warren, I know.” Hopping into the wagon, he made his way past the few barrels to the corner where Baylee was lying. A lantern had been hung from the top of the wagon, bathing her in a soft glow. He was more than a little surprised to find her sitting up, since he had left her lying down. She was spooning some porridge into her mouth as he approached and she gave him a small wave.

“I see you’ve been brought some food,” he chuckled as he knelt down beside her.

“And I’ve the feelin’ I’m not goin’ t’ be finishing it,” she replied. “You’re goin’ t’ work on it right away, then?”

“You have enough time for a few more bites,” he smiled. “I still have to make the potion that will send you into sleep.”

She cringed slightly. “Are ya positive ya can’t just do it while I’m awake?”

His brow rose as he went through his satchel. “I could, but I’m confident it will leave you in massive amounts of agony.” He pulled out a small bottle containing a green liquid as well as a few leaves of a strange herb. “I’ve tended to you enough times, little one. Do you not trust me after all this time?”

“I trust ya, Rhovathor, I just don’t like the idea o’ bein’ asleep while someone’s pokin’ an’ proddin’ around in my skin. What if I don’t wake up?” She looked down into her bowl, biting her tongue.

He set his hand on her shoulder. “I can tell you that you will wake up,” he assured her, “and when you do, your side will still ache, but not nearly as much as it has been.”

“Promise?”

He smiled. “I promise.”

~*~

Caranonel had her eyes shut as she listened to the sounds around her. Nearest to her were the noises of men and dwarves hastily throwing their gear into packs and saddlebags while their horses snorted impatiently; they were eager to get going. A bit farther off, she could hear the rushing of the river as followed its course south before turning abruptly to the east and towards Dorwinion. A ways away from that, the cawing of low-flying birds could be heard as they stayed close to the forest and to the hills.

Farthest away, but getting nearer every minute, was the storm.

It was a large storm and it would bring with it howling winds and great cracks of thunder. As of yet, she couldn’t hear the rain, but when she opened her eyes and stared far-off into the north, she could see the great, black clouds swollen with water. They would be riding into the storm, meeting it head-on with only the low hills for cover. It would be dangerous, but it was their only choice; they had no way of crossing the river and, even if they did, they could not get everyone across in time.

“What do you see?” Bard had come to stand alongside her, his eyes also fixed on the horizon. His human sight only allowed him to see the flat plains and the unthreatening grey clouds.

“A massive storm is coming,” she warned him, not taking her earthy eyes off the distance. “We will be riding into it and will have no shelter. From the river we’ll be safe, but from the wind…” She lightly shook her head and looked at the human king. “We need to get into the hills before it reaches us; there we will have some cover from the wind.”

He nodded in understanding. “Thank you, Caranonel,” he told her. “Your sight, now more than ever, has proven to be of a great use.”

She nodded. “I also suggest convincing some of the injured dwarves to ride in the wagon.”

“Why is that? So they won’t be tussled about as much?”

A slight grin came to her lips. “To weigh it down.” Before Bard could reply, she excused herself, going to find her horse.

Bard shook his head, muttering to himself about the ‘friendship’ between dwarves and elves and how it seemed almost akin to the one between humans and goblins.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Bifur did not like storms. He never had. Something about the mixture of rain, wind, thunder, and lightning had always unnerved him, as if the Dark One was sending forth their first wave of destruction into the world. Of course, that hadn’t been the case for many, many centuries –not since the downfall of Mordor.

Yet, he could never quite get it out of his mind that there was some sort of evil force driving the storms. He had heard the tales of how the day of Smaug’s coming had started out beautifully only to turn into utter chaos as the dragon swooped in. But this was no dragon-brought storm; he had talked to the elven woman. Caranonel had assured him that it was a storm created by nature and had no taint of evil to it. It did little to ease him.

She was strange, he thought, even for an elf. Then again, he hadn’t met many elves in his lifetime, but those that he had had the ‘pleasure’ of meeting were certainly far different from what he had been expecting. Caranonel, however, had fit his exact image of an elf before he and the rest of Thorin’s Company had entered Mirkwood. She was observant, though she spoke little and tended to stare past a person rather than at them. Despite being siblings, she was not often near Rhovathor, preferring to instead stay by Warren, Will, or Baylee.

But she had warned them that they would be facing the storm, head-on, and he was thankful for that.

As such, Bard had ordered everyone to partner up and tie their horses to one another so that, should it become hard to see or a horse tried to bolt off, they could have some help remaining with the group. Ori, Nori, and Zori had been put into the wagon with Baylee; he had tried to convince Lovisa to go into the wagon as well and let him steer, but she adamantly refused. So now he sat beside her on the front bench of the wagon, his cloak huddled around himself as bitterly cold winds blew down on them.

He glanced over at Lovisa, watching as she adjusted herself on the seat, lightly tugging on the reins to bring the horses closer to the riders. She winced as a gust of wind blasted past them, forcing her to shield her face with her free hand while the other continued to grip the reins. Bifur mentally sighed; she was a stubborn woman and he was praying that her stubbornness would not be her downfall.

When she had lowered her hand, Bifur signed at her. ‘Positive not want lay down?’

She nodded. ‘Am fine. Wind just pain. Cold! Thought was summer, not winter.’ A playful smirk came to her lips, earning a bit of relief from Bifur. She held up her hand as another gust of wind assaulted their faces.

‘If start getting tired, let know. Will take over if need.’

Lovisa dismissively waved her hand. ‘Am fine. Half dwarrow, remember? Can handle anything storm throws at me.’ She looked ahead of them, at the dark clouds and she grinned slightly. ‘Have faced worse than little storm.’

Bifur’s brow rose. ‘This storm not little.’

‘For north, is little. Have been here five years, not gone through bad storm?’

He shrugged. ‘Hard to know when live in mountain. Weather not really felt there.’

She nodded in understanding. ‘May be half dwarrow, but not understand need to live in mountains. Air must get stale. Is always fresh out in the open.’

‘Too fresh right now.’ He grumbled and pulled his cloak closer around him. ‘Hate storms.’ Bifur closed his eyes and shook his head. His eye cracked open slightly as he felt an arm slip around his upper back. Lovisa lightly pulled him closer to her, giving him a comforting squeeze.

‘Will pass,’ she assured him. ‘Will pass then get warm again. Almost home! Think of warm tea, good soup. Will be good homecoming. Friends, family, food. What more could look forward to?’

With a small sigh, Bifur unclasped his cloak and wrapped it around the both of them. He gave her a small, defeated smile. “Not much,” he verbally replied before kissing her cheek.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

It was the thunder that finally woke Baylee up. Her side ached something fierce, but it wasn’t the same, heated throbbing that she had felt that morning. Something was also lying on her stomach; what it was, she wasn’t able to tell at the moment. She quietly groaned and opened her eyes just in time to witness the wagon lighting up as lightning streaked across the sky. Wincing, she started to push herself upright when a hand lightly pushed her back down.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea right now.” It was Nori’s voice. “Ori’s usin’ your leg as a pillow an’ Zori’s taken up residence on your stomach. He’s not asleep, but he’s a bit calmer now that he’s got a soft bed.”

She nodded slowly. “How long have I been out?”

“Since morning, as far as I know.”

“An’ what time is it now?”

“I haven’t got an idea. It could be afternoon, could be dark…Storm’s been goin’ for hours. I can’t keep track o’ time in here. Sorry ‘bout Zori.”

She raised her hand up and lightly stroked Zori’s head. “It’s alright. He’s probably terrified o’ the storm. Not everyone can like ‘em.”

Lightning cracked overhead and Nori winced. “You like storms?”

A tired, yet cheeky, grin went unseen in the darkness that followed. “I love storms. I wish I could see this one instead o’ lying here.” She winced as she shifted slightly, thunder booming overhead. “How’re the others?”

“No telling. They’re outside, all roped together.” He fumbled around with something before suddenly producing a warm glow. Baylee blinked against the lantern’s light, holding her hand up to shield her eyes. “Sorry, but I thought it’d be better than the lightnin’.”

“Understandable. Just don’t drop it…could light everythin’ on fire.”

He nodded, leaning back against one of the barrels. “How d’you feel? I heard you had a bit of surgery this morning.”

“Sore, but I think that’s also because I’ve been asleep most o’ the day on this horrid bed.” She watched as Nori reached into one of the smaller barrels only to pull out some jerky. He had searched out the softest bits and offered them to Baylee.

“Here. You could use some food,” he told her. “It’s not as good as soup or stew, but it’ll do for now.”

“Thank you.” Taking the jerky, she took a bite and started to slowly chew it. “I could really go for some potato an’ leek stew soon,” she murmured. “Galiene makes a wonderful potato an’ leek stew…she sometimes adds in some roasted chicken an’ carrots, too. I know it sounds it odd, but it’s good.”

Nori chuckled. “I remember. She made it a few months ago when your brother just returned from the east.”

“Aye…an’ how delicious it was.” She looked down as Zori whimpered, a particularly loud boom of thunder shaking the wagon. Barely a second later, lightning shot across the sky. A second after that, more earth-shaking thunder and even more lightning. “Storm’s right over us,” she uselessly told Nori; her voice was drowned out by the thunder.

Ori sat up, startled by the noise around them. Through the candlelight, the other two could see his mouth moving, but couldn’t hear him. As a result, he frowned and started signing at them. ‘Storm getting bad!’

‘Storm right over us,’ Baylee signed. She watched as Nori lifted Zori from her stomach, doing his best to shield the baby’s ears from the loud noise. ‘Will pass soon. Things get quiet when get out of it.’

The two dwarves nodded, Nori unable to reply. Baylee winced as she forced herself to sit up and lean against the side of the wagon. Taking her blanket, she painfully leaned forward and wrapped it around Zori and Nori, doing her best to pad the child’s ears against the loud thunder. She held her hand against the wound on her stomach as she rested back again.

‘Will must be having the time of his life out there, riding through this storm,’ she thought. ‘Second storm this year I missed getting to watch.’ Looking down at her wound, she sighed. ‘Not either of our faults, though…and I suppose this one is for the best. I just wish I could see it.’

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

When the storm finally passed, it was morning and the riders were absolutely soaked. Since they had been tied to one another, most had chosen to sleep in the saddle, no matter how loud and fearsome the storm had been; their exhaustion was far greater. Now, however, the sun was out and the air quite warm. Wet clothing was removed from bodies and laid out on rocks to dry while tired men and dwarves either did their best to sleep or made hot pots of stew and soup.

Warren, though, was sitting with his children in the wagon. Will and Baylee were leaning against one side while he sat atop a barrel. All three of them were eating bowls of soup.

“How is everyone else?” Baylee asked them, trying to fish a carrot out of the broth. “I can’t imagine that they’re doin’ too well after bein’ in the saddle all night through such a storm.”

Warren shook his head. “No, they’re not. Even Bard’s exhausted. They all look like a bunch o’ sopping wet dogs an’ rats.” He covered his mouth with the back of his hand as he yawned. “Bofur’s pigtails nearly got themselves tangled up in big ol’ knot.”

“Poor thing…Looks like I’ll have t’ help him get his hair straightened out later,” Baylee chuckled. “What about his hat? Did it manage t’ stay on his head?”

“Aye, it did,” Will chuckled. “He’s sleepin’ right now, but I’ll be sure t’ tell him to visit when he gets up.”

Raising his brow, Warren glanced between his children. He had the odd feeling that they knew something he didn’t, but ignored it for now; they had always had their secrets and he was in no place to question them. They would, in time, tell him –that much he knew. “So, how’re you feelin’ today, Baylee? Did Rhovathor’s bit o’ surgery help?”

She let out a laugh. “Aye, it did, but I’m still sore –but not the same sort o’ sore that I had been feelin’. I don’t think I’ll be doin’ much walking for the next few days, though.”

Will reached over and ruffled her hair. “You need the rest, though.”

“I’m tired o’ sittin’ around an’ being useless, though! I can’t stand sittin’ still this long.”

Warren moved his bowl closer to Baylee’s, scooping some carrots from his bowl and into hers. “’Lee, I know you were never one t’ sit still –you were always the more energetic o’ you two- but ya must rest. If you go about, running around an’ helping everyone in the camp, you’ll never heal.” Glancing up at her, he gave her a rather fatherly look. “Anyway, look at the weight you’re gainin’! You’ve always been too skinny; now you’re gettin’ nice an’ plump.”

“I’m not a chicken, papa! I don’t need t’ be fattened up.” She pouted and ate some of the carrots her father had given her.

Warren ruffled her hair. “Of course you’re not a chicken…Not after what you’ve been through. I’d be surprised if anyone considered ya less than a wolf.”

Rolling her eyes, she let out a quiet laugh. “I’m not a wolf, either. I’m just a girl.”

“Who has lost two fingers and nearly her leg.” The three humans looked up as Bofur appeared at the back of the wagon. He gave the three of them a cheeky grin, a look that earned a giggle from Baylee thanks to his incredibly messy hair. Like the rest of the males, he had taken off his tunic, shirt, and boots, leaving him in just his trousers with his hat tucked into his belt. “An’ she’s also a pretty good fighter, if I may say. I think that makes her at least a wolf pup. Or maybe just a very feisty sheep.”

“A feisty sheep!?” Baylee giggled.

“Aye, a feisty sheep!”

Warren’s brow rose for the second time that day. “Oy, I thought you were sleeping, lad?”

“I was, but the sun’s far too warm t’ sleep for long,” he replied. “Anyway, it’s been awhile since I visited Baylee, so I thought I’d stop by. Though, I see the wagon’s a bit full right now, so I think I’ll stand out here.”

“Actually,” spoke Will, “I was just gettin’ ready to leave. I need more soup.” He nodded to his sister and father before getting up and leaving the wagon.

“Come on in,” Warren said, motioning for Bofur to climb in. “You’re startin’ to turn pink from the sun.”

Bofur smirked. “I managed t’ avoid Lovisa and her sun ointment,” he boasted. Crawling into the wagon, he plopped down on the floorboards at the foot of Baylee’s makeshift bed.

Baylee laughed. “It’s helped us this far, Bofur.”

“I know, lass, but I think if I had t’ smell that stuff on my skin for one more day, I’d go insane.”

Warren snorted. “As if you’re not already.”

Bofur grinned. “Only slightly.” He blinked as Baylee leaned over and started to untie his spectacularly messy braids.

“This is goin’ to take quite a while,” Baylee sighed, trying to be gentle as she untangled the leather cord from his locks. “That storm really did a number on ya, lad.”

“Eh, my hair has been through worse, I assure you.”

Leaning back, Warren watched as his daughter continued to struggle against Bofur’s hair. All the while, he wondered if she knew that doing such was a sign of flirtation amongst dwarves. If she did know, he thought, she was doing a rather good job of hiding her affections –and Bofur was doing quite a job hiding any sort of emotion besides his joyfulness at the storm being over.

‘Then again, she probably doesn’t know,’ he thought to himself. ‘She hasn’t been exposed to the dwarves as much as me; she doesn’t know their culture too well. Anyway, Bofur’s going to age slower than her and she knows it. She’ll more than likely pick a nice human lad…’

“Papa? Are ya feeling alright?”

He glanced up, seeing both Baylee and Bofur looking at him with concern. “Sorry, ‘Lee. What was that?”

“I asked if ya were feelin’ alright…” She frowned. “You hadn’t been answerin’ my questions; you were just sort o’ starin’ past me at the canvas.”

Giving her a reassuring smile, Warren stood up and ruffled her hair. “Everything’s fine, ‘Lee. Don’t you worry about me; I’m still just a wee bit tired from last night. Hand me your bowl.”

She held up her now-empty soup bowl, watching as her father took it. “Thank ya, papa.”

Warren knelt down and kissed her forehead. “You get some rest. I know ya don’t want to, but it’ll help.” And then he hopped out of the wagon, walking off.

Bofur quietly laughed. “I take it you’ve been protestin’ against nappin’ again?”

Her cheeks turned pink as she went back to finger-combing the third of his hair. “Aye. I can’t help that I feel so cooped up an’ useless in this bed.”

He gave her a bit of a scolding look. “You’ve been anythin’ but useless, love.” He watched her fingers delicately work through the many knots and tangles in his hair. “An’ you had t’ go under the knife yesterday. I’m surprised you’re even able t’ sit up today after that.”

“This bed isn’t comfortable,” she sighed. “Nor am I one for lying down all day. After all, I normally run around an inn, tryin’ to feed patrons an’ keep the rooms clean.”

“Think of this as a holiday,” he told her. “Aye, you’re injured, but at least it’s keepin’ you off your feet for a while.” A mischievous grin came to his features. “Means I can sit an’ talk with you for longer periods o’ time as well.”

Rolling her eyes, Baylee quietly laughed and nuzzled her nose against his cheek. “Aye, that it does. Though ah…when do ya think we should tell papa about ‘us’? Otherwise, it’s goin’ t’ be a wee bit hard for the two o’ us to keep ‘this’ secret.”

“Give him a bit o’ time. After all, I’m sure he’s still reelin’ a bit from findin’ out about Adela’s pregnancy.” He turned a bit so that Baylee could start on the second braid in his hair. “I can’t imagine the sort o’ shock he had to have gone through when that happened. I mean, the day after he found out about Will an’ Adela courtin’, he was as white as a ghost. Every time he saw the two o’ them together, he’d mumble something an’ shake his head…” He shook his own head. “But he got over it. Only to find out Adela’s pregnant! Boy, that must o’ been a hard time for him…”

Baylee let out a quiet sigh. “Aye, it does sound like we should give him a wee bit o’ time then. No doubt he’ll be glad I found a lad, but he didn’t seem entirely….enthusiastic at the idea o’ me courtin’ a dwarf.”

“What d’ya mean, love?”

“Before we left for Lake Town, papa had a little chat with me…about how I needed t’ start lookin’ for a husband.”

Bofur frowned. “He never seemed the type t’ worry about that sort o’ thing.”

“I know, so he left me a wee bit confused there. But he was tellin’ me that he wanted me t’ find a lad that I loved an’ that I shouldn’t rush into anythin’, but when I asked how he’d feel if I fell for a dwarven male…He was relatively hesitant.”

With another grin, Bofur looked over his shoulder at Baylee. “Ah, so even before I helped rescue you, ya had a fondness for me?” he teased.

Her cheeks turning deep red, Baylee giggled and lightly smacked his shoulder. “Oh, shush you!”

He teasingly wiggled his eyebrows. “It’s the braids, isn’t it? The ladies can’t resist them.”

Her brow rose and she smirked as she kissed his cheek. “No. It was the smile under that mustache o’ yours.”

“Oh, well that’s a relief,” he chuckled, nuzzling his nose against hers. “Because I fell for your smile, too.”

 

 

Caranonel had her arms crossed over her chest as she stood at the edge of the resting group. Facing north-west, she peered across the hilly plains, a bit of a smile on her features. In the vast distance (at least, to human eyes), she could see the city of Dale perched atop the enormous, rocky hill. The city appeared to be no more than a pebble, safeguarded by the Lonely Mountain’s encompassing roots. In the afternoon sunlight, the mountain glistened, its slopes still wet from the previous day’s rain.

“I see we are nearer to Dale than we had anticipated.” Rhovathor came to stand beside her, his hands clasped behind his back. “I guess the fear of the storm was enough of a slave driver to push them an extra ten miles last night.”

“Do not forget about their sheer will to see their homes again,” Caranonel added. “Especially those who have gone to Rhûn and back. They long for their own beds and their families.” She turned her head, looking at her brother. “How is Baylee?”

“She will live. In fact, she is already sitting up and enjoying merry conversation,” he answered. “But whether she will walk again is another story. That wound was bad; what I had thought to be a fragment of a tooth was actually a fragment of her own bone. It will take longer to heal than what she wants, that is certain. And when she is healed…” He lightly shook his head. “She may require those crutches for the rest of her life. But her will is strong; I sense she will fight past the crutches.”

A smile graced his sister’s lips. “Good. She and the beardless dwarf –Ori, was his name?- have been through much. He told me their tale in its entirety the night before last. He is rather polite for a dwarf.”

“He is, isn’t he?” He smiled as well. “These dwarves are different from most we’ve met. Despite their hardships they seem…happier than those in Ered Luin or the Iron Hills.”

“And yet, I can see in their eyes that they all bear a great sorrow deep within their souls. No dwarf we have met prior to them has born this grief.”

Rhovathor glanced at his sister, watching as a few strands of her hair was plucked up by the light, warm breeze. It gaily danced about her neck and shoulders, reminding him of how she had come by her name. “I wonder what could have brought about such feelings in them? It is an unusual thing to see in their kind these days.”

She lightly shrugged. “I do not know and I do not care to guess, brother. What grief they hold is their own; though we may ponder what makes them unhappy, it is not our place to pry.” Turning from the sight of Dale and Erebor, she looked over their encampment. “It is, however, my place to inform Bard and Warren that we’re only two days from their home.” She started to walk away.

“I think you are just looking for an excuse to speak with Warren.”

Caranonel stopped in her tracks. Her brow raised, she turned to look at her brother. “And what is that supposed to mean?”

“Oh, nothing, sister. Enjoy your chat with the men. I think I will go hunt out some herbs for dinner…” Before his sister could reply, he began walking away. When he had gone some yards and Caranonel had continued, he suddenly turned around. “By the way, Caranonel –don’t gawk at his muscles for too long. He may get suspicious.” A laugh left his mouth as he ducked, his face narrowly avoiding collision with a small rock.


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so, so terribly sorry this took so long to update. My life...has been crazy these last few weeks and they're only going to be getting crazier. For those of you who are still reading this silly little fanfiction (that...isn't so little, considering it's over 400 pages so far), I thank you from the bottom of my heart.

Dale was a beacon of joy illuminated by the early morning sun.

As the company rose from their sleep, there were a few shouts of joy from those who hadn't seen the city in weeks. So eager to see their homes less than five miles away, it was decided that they would forgo their morning meal and start off straight away towards the city. They knew that, once inside the walls of Dale, they would get meals consisted of far better food than dried meat and stale biscuits.

"Once we get back to the Tankard, I'm going t' have a large bowl of porridge. Then I'm goin' t' take a nice, long bath an' scrub all this grime off o' myself," Will was telling Dwalin and Nori. "That is, if Adela will let me. Knowin' her, she'll be clinging onto me like a leech."

"Well, she is bearin' yer child, lad," Dwalin mused. "I think she's got a right t' hold onto yeh an' not let go." He scratched his chin lazily. "I'm sure she'll be willing t' part with yeh for a wee bit, though. She won't want t' get her dress all dirty because o' yeh."

Will snorted. "Adela won't care," he told him. "Knowin' her, she'll probably even cling onto me in the bath." When he realized what he had said, his cheeks turned a deep shade of red and he glanced away from the two dwarves as they grinned cheekily.

Zori, on the other hand, began to babble to the three males. Nori glanced at him from over his shoulder, his brow rising as he was just able to see the child waving his hands around excitedly. More than once, he ended up thwacking his father upside the head –luckily, though, he wasn't the strongest baby and his blows barely registered through all of Nori's hair.

"Y'know, he's picked this up from Lovisa," mused Nori.

"Picked what up from Lovisa?" Dwalin inquired, his brow raising.

"The hand gestures. I don't talk with my hands an' neither does Ori. Lovisa's the only one o' us who uses her hands that much, so he's had t' have picked it up from her."

Will snorted a second time. "Maybe he thinks that Lovisa is his mother?" he jokingly suggested. "After all, she an' Baylee are the only females he's known for the last few weeks."

Nori gave him a dry look. "The wee lad doesn't have a mother. She gave him up the moment she tossed him out into the street t' die." Shaking his head, he adjusted himself in the saddle. "No; the lad's only got a papa. He doesn't need a mama."

"He's got aunts and they're good enough," Dwalin chuckled. "I'm sure as gold is soft tha' the wee laddie is goin' t' be callin' Lovisa an' Baylee 'auntie' by the time he can speak." He glanced up as a pony came trotting towards them, bearing Dori on its back. "Watch out –Dori's comin'."

Shifting in the saddle, Nori looked down and watched as his older brother rode up to his horse. "Mornin', Dori. Finished fussin' over Ori's arm, have you?"

Dori frowned. "I'll have you know, I didn't bring his arm up once this morning!" he scolded. "No. I wasn't even with Ori. I was talking with Bofur and Bifur about pleasant things." He leaned back as his pony tossed its head and shook its mane out.

"What sort o' pleasant things?" Dwalin grinned.

"Cakes an' teas an' books?" Nori snickered.

"Their shop!" he scoffed, mildly offended by their behavior. "Apparently, it's doing better than they had hoped. If sales pick up to where they had been before this whole fiasco, the two of them could easily bring in vast amounts of wealth to their families."

"That's good to hear," Will smiled, "because I work for them. It'd be nice t' bring in an extra bit o' spending money to my family –especially with a baby on the way."

Dori nodded in understanding. "Speaking of babies…Nori, how is little Zori doing?"

"Well. He keeps hitting me as he babbles…he'll probably need his diaper changed soon, though…Now if only I had a willin' volunteer…" He peeked at Dori from the corner of his eye, a sly grin on his lips.

It quickly faded as Dori next spoke. "Oh, no you don't! He's your son and you need to take responsibility for him," he told his brother. "Anyway, I've had my fill of diaper changes thanks to you and Ori."

"Oh, come off it –Mum was around enough times t' keep you from changing me often an' then when I was old enough, you had me changing Ori!"

"You just think our mother was around to keep me from changing you," Dori corrected, "when in all actuality, the poor thing was so busy through the day or worn out at night that it was me who did most of the work with you!"

Will laughed. "Nori, if you don't want to change his diaper, I'll do it. I need the practice, after all. I'm sure once Adela gives birth, she's goin' t' be bedridden for the first few days, so it'll be up t' me."

Dwalin nodded. "Just watch out –Baylee may try t' do some o' the work."

At that, Will frowned. "I hope not. She'll still be healing by the time Adela pops."

"Yeh do realize, lad, that this is Baylee we're talkin' about, aye?" He cocked his brow as he turned to look at the human. "She'll be tryin' t' do work, despite what any healer may say. It's her nature t' keep busy an' I'm damned sure she's not goin' t' let this keep her down for long."

Will let out a sigh. "Dad an' I have been talkin' about that, actually," he admitted. "We know that, if she stays at the inn, she won't stay in bed –an' not just because she wants t' serve our patrons, but because her room is so far away from the kitchen or the privy."

"Sounds like she may need t' stay elsewhere until she's able to be up an' about again," Nori commented.

Dori lightly shrugged. "She could stay with us-"

"Then she'll be fussing over Zori an' you know it," Nori interrupted.

"-Or you could ask Bifur and Bofur if she could stay with their family. Bombur and his wife are good dwarrows; I'm sure they'd be willing to help out the family that's helped their brother and cousin get their new business started."

"Let alone Bofur's lass," Nori and Dwalin chorused.

"Well, yes, that too," Dori agreed, "but I was emphasizing a more important part. Though, I am glad that Bofur has managed to find himself a new lass; I was starting to think the poor lad was one of those found-love-only-once sorts." He scratched his neatly-combed beard and glanced up at Will. "She would be in good hands, there. I daresay she may even gain a bit of weight –no offense to her, of course. The dear's always running around that inn, serving people so it must be a struggle for her to keep a bit of meat on her bones."

Nori rolled his eyes. "There he goes, frettin' again."

"I'm not fretting!" he argued. "I'm merely stating that the lass needs a bit of meat on her bones. Not to mention, a hearty chicken soup or beef stew will help her gain some strength back after what she's had to go through." He sat up a bit straighter in the saddle and turned away from his brother; Nori knew from years of experience that this meant Dori was annoyed with him. "Bombur and Gerdi are more than capable of giving her the proper care and attention she'll need during the coming weeks."

Will gave him a thankful smile. "I'll discuss it with dad an' Bofur. Though…Dori, just one wee thing."

"What's that, lad?"

"Da' doesn't know about Bofur an' Baylee yet."

"Oh? And why not? I thought it was law for human fathers to be asked if someone could court their daughter?" At that, the other three males burst out into laughter. "What?" he demanded. "What's so funny?"

Will was able to stifle his laughter long enough to answer. "It's not law, Dori –just polite. An' to answer you…Bofur an' Baylee don't really know how t' tell dad. After all, Baylee's his only daughter an' he's a bit hesitant about lettin' her court anyone."

"Ah, I see. Well, then, they best tell him soon, lest he find out from someone else." He shook his head. "Secondary sources almost always prove to cause trouble in the long run." Lightly stroking his beard, he glanced up at Will. "When they do decide to tell your father, just be sure to reassure him that Bofur's a good dwarrow. He'd be hard-pressed to find any one more gentle and kind than him."

"Aye, I can attest t' that," Dwalin agreed. "An' if ever someone threatens her, Warren can be sure tha' Bofur will protect her."

"Oh, I'm rather sure he already knows that one," Will chuckled. "Then again, it wasn't just him fighting those wargs a few weeks ago. It was all o' us."

Dori cringed at the thought. "Just how many wargs were there? No one's given me a proper answer yet."

"That's because we don't know for certain," Nori answered. "We just know that there was more 'n ten and less than fifty. Ori an' I stayed back-t'-back for the most part, though in the end, I had to keep him between me and a tree so no one got t' him."

Dwalin grinned. "Aye, it was a right, proper fight. Haven't had that much fun since Goblin Town."

"Fun?" Nori and Will chorused, their brows raised.

"I'm jus' pullin' yer legs, lads. I was fairly certain tha' was going t' be my last battle, but Mahal didn't see fit t' make it so." He turned towards Will. "Have yeh given any thought t' those warrior marks, lad?"

Nodding, Will pushed his sleeves up his arms, finding the fabric a bit scratchy. "Aye, I have," he told him. "I think I'll take your offer up. If anything, they'll hide some of these scars an' maybe intimidate some o' rowdy folk who come into the inn sometimes."

"Tha' it will," Dwalin smirked. "Show 'em those an' they should quiet down –if they don't, knock 'em upside the head with a stool."

Will blinked before letting out a small laugh. "I don't think that one is goin' t' happen any time soon, Dwalin."

He shrugged. "Yeh never know, lad."

Elsewhere in the company, Caranonel and Bofur were riding alongside the wagon, which had the canvas drawn back to allow the occupants to see a bit of sunshine. Inside, Baylee was still asleep while Ori sat with his back against a barrel, eating some jerky for his breakfast. He would have much rather had some porridge, but knew he would be getting some soon.

"Are you excited to be so close to home again?" Caranonel asked the two dwarves.

"I'll be more excited when I've got a nice, large bowl o' soup in front o' me an' a tankard o' ale beside that," Bofur grinned.

"I just want a proper bed again," Ori yawned. He shifted himself a bit and winced when he accidentally thwacked his arm against a crate. "And a bath. I don't think I've had a proper bath since we left."

A small grin came to Caranonel's lips. "Rivers and streams only make for good bathing when the air is hot," she agreed. "Though, I must admit that I prefer the earth to a feather bed."

Bofur shrugged. "It's nice once in a while, but it gets old real fast. An' I'm tired o' wakin' up t' find ants in my hat an' boots."

"That wouldn't happen if you had checked the area you were goin' t' sleep in," Ori laughed. "You were less than ten feet from an ant hill, so of course you woke up covered in them!"

A pout came to his lips. "It was dark; how was I supposed t' see it?" he grumbled, his cheeks turning red. Taking off his hat, he wiped his forehead on the back of his sleeve, sighing quietly. "It's goin' t' be warm today," he commented –an attempt to change the subject.

Squinting his eyes, Ori glanced up at the sky. "Aye, it is," he agreed, "though we'll be inside most of the day, I'm sure."

"Inside may be warmer than outside," Caranonel told him, "especially when the people flock to the Full Tankard to hear the tale of your ordeal. That, alone, will quickly make the main room a hot place, but when you also count the kitchen fires and the hot baths that will no doubt be prepared…" She shook her head. "I think I may stay in the courtyard instead."

Ori scrunched his nose up. "When you put it that way, I may stay in the courtyard as well. Or maybe I should just go back to Erebor. It's cool during the summers."

"O' course it is. It's inside a mountain," Bofur laughed. "Though, some parts get rather warm –so long as ya stay away from the forges, you should be fine."

"No sane person would go near a forge anyway." The three looked down as Baylee spoke, surprised to find her awake. She smiled tiredly. "Bloody noisy places they are."

"Mornin', sunflower," Bofur chirped. Leaning over, he nearly fell off of the horse as he held onto the side of the wagon and kissed Baylee's forehead. "I hope ya slept well."

Her cheeks turned a light shade of pink. "Well enough, for bein' in this lousy wagon," she replied. "An' careful now! Don't go fallin' off o' your horse jus' for a peck on the forehead."

He grinned cheekily as he managed to right himself once again. "Ah, but it'd be worth it." He gave her a small wink, watching as Ori did his best to help her sit up. Leaning back, he grabbed his water skin and tossed it onto Baylee's lap. "Have as much as ya like; we'll be home within an hour."

Her eyes widened and she bolted upright, ignoring the pain in her side and causing Bofur and Ori to lurch forward in futile attempts to keep her still. Turning, the trio watched as a large smile spread across her lips. "Now that's a sight for sore eyes!" she sighed. Soon, however, her joy was overcome with pain and ever so slowly, she turned back around and lay back down, partially propped up by her pillow. "I really shouldn't have done that…"

Caranonel frowned and brought her horse next to the wagon. With ease, she hopped into the cart and knelt beside Baylee. "You may have ripped the stitches," she lightly scolded as she tossed the blanket back. Pushing her shirt up a bit, the elf inspected Baylee's wound.

Bofur leaned over, trying to get a peek at whatever damage that had been done. He cringed as he saw the main incision; it was about as big as his thumb and was surrounded by several smaller punctures –holes left by the other teeth. The skin was bruised in areas, though it was worst around the incision. A bit of blood trickled down Baylee's hip, but all the stitches were in place and unbroken.

Spotting his look of intrigued disgust, Baylee gave him a small smile. "It looks better than it did a few days ago," she told him as Caranonel applied a bit of salve. She clenched her eyes shut, slowly breathing through the pain. "It was sort o' greenish then an' really swollen. I don't know how he managed t' make it heal this much in just a few days, but I'm thankful for it."

Still wearing a frown, Bofur sat up in the saddle. "I'm glad he got t' it when he did, then. I don't want t' think about what it would have looked like if it had gotten worse."

"You are not the only one," Caranonel agreed. "It does not help that wargs will eat almost anything; that is probably why she got the infection." She wiped her hands off on a cloth before tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "If it had been any other substance, I am positive she would not have gotten the infection."

Baylee let out a quiet sigh. "Well, what's happened has happened. I'm more or less lookin' forward t' what's comin', because I'm certain it means we'll get ourselves a proper breakfast." She pushed her shirt back down and tugged the blanket up a bit.

Ori let out a small laugh. "You're almost like a hobbit –you go through turmoil and then you come back out only thinkin' about food."

"I'm hungry!" she argued. "An' as good as Lovisa an' Bifur's cooking can be, thin stews and dry biscuits aren't the tastiest of meals –especially after havin' them so many days in a row. I could really go for a nice slice o' blackberry cobbler an' a big ol' chunk of beef."

It was Caranonel's turn to laugh. "Little one, you could not eat that much, even if you tried." She reached down and lightly ruffled Baylee's short hair. "The most I have witnessed you eat is half a steak as well as some mashed potatoes."

Her cheeks turned pink. "I was barely fourteen at the time!"

"Yes, and you were the same size then as you are now." She gave her a gentle smile. "I do not doubt your appetite; just the capacity of your stomach."

"What I don't eat, I'm sure Ori, Will, or Bofur will take care of," replied Baylee. She shifted slightly, still having to breathe slowly; the salve, while providing a cool feeling to the wound, still stung as it worked its medicinal magic. She covered her mouth with her hand as she yawned.

"Should try an' get yourself a bit more rest, lass," Bofur told her. "I'm sure you'll get your fair share o' excitement once we get ya back t' the Tankard."

She looked up at him; she looked tired, but the smile on her lips proved otherwise. "I'm fine. Anyway, I've already had my fair share o' excitement, haven't I?" Watching as Caranonel stood up and hopped back onto her horse, she inwardly sighed. 'I wish my adventure had been more pleasant,' she thought.

"And now you need your fair share o' rest," Bofur mused. He glanced forward as someone called his name; Will was motioning to him. "Ah, looks like Will an' your dad want t' talk with me," he murmured, a bit of a feeling of dread filling his stomach. 'Did Will tell Warren about Baylee and me?' he internally worried.

"I'm sure it's nothin'," Baylee yawned. "Probably just want t' discuss if you an' Bifur want baths when we get back." She thanked Ori as he offered her some jerky, but declined his offer.

"Aye, it probably is," he smiled. 'Or maybe Warren wants my head on a platter,' he thought as he urged his horse towards the two humans. The closer he came towards them, the more uneasy he felt. The feeling was eased slightly when Warren gave him a friendly smile.

"Mornin', lad," he told the dwarf. "Baylee up yet?"

Bofur nodded. "Aye, sir, she is. She's babblin' 'bout how she's craving a proper breakfast from the Tankard."

"I think all o' us want that by now," Will agreed. "I know I could eat at least three bowls of porridge and ten slices of bacon." He brushed a fly from his face. "Anyway, Bofur, we were wonderin' something…"

Cocking his head, Bofur felt even more at ease –if Will wanted to know something, then it wasn't about him and Baylee courting. "Oh? An' what's that?"

"Well," Warren began, rubbing the top of his head, "I wanted t' ask a favor o' you. I know you've already done me a big favor in keepin' me boy an' girl safe all this time, but this one isn't nearly so…hazardous."

Bofur dismissively waved his hand. "I've fougth worse than a couple dozen wargs an' some angry womenfolk," he joked. "What is it?"

"We've been talkin' 'bout Baylee," explained Warren, "an' we've come t' realize that, even with doctor's orders, she isn't going t' be stayin' in bed very long if she stays at the Tankard. An' it's no fault o' hers –she's not used t' being off her feet."

"Not to mention, her room is in the very back of the building, far out o' the range anyone normally visits," Will added.

Warren nodded "An' Will told me a wee bit ago that Dori mentioned the possibility o' havin' Baylee stay in Erebor, either with the Ri family or with the Ur family."

Bofur blinked, any tenseness that had been in his body instantly leaving; in fact, he felt so much better, he outright laughed. "Oh, aye! I'd have t' talk with Bombur an' Gerdi 'bout it, but I'm sure it won't be any trouble. An' if all else fails, Bifur can go over and help keep her planted in bed. He could also probably keep the wee ones from ambushin' her…"

Again, Warren nodded, a small smile on his lips. "That'd be nice," he told him. "I've heard from Ori tha' Dori's a capable caretaker, but I've also heard that he's a bit o' a…well, a fusspot, an' I know that wouldn't bode well with Baylee –especially when she's going to be grumpy from not doin' anythin' for so long. I figured your family would be the best bet, and not just because we already know most o' you." He gave Bofur a small wink before looking back towards Dale.

"Well, like I said, I'd have t' go an' talk t' Bombur about it," he told him. "But I'm pretty positive he won't say no."

"I think the only person protestin' this will be Baylee herself," Will told them. "After all, she's not been home in nearly two months…She'll want t' stay longer, but at least she'd be just an hour or two away. We could come visit her any time we'd like."

Bofur nodded in agreement. "Aye, that is true. There's also the fact that, under Bombur an' Gerdi's care, she'll be gettin' fed about six meals a day –if not more." He adjusted his hat atop his head so that it better blocked the sun from his eyes. "Not t' mention, she'll be taller than anyone else in Erebor. I'm sure she'll enjoy that."

At that, both Will and Warren burst out laughing. "Oh, I'm sure she would!" Warren grinned. "She's shorter than everyone in Dale, so no doubt it'd be a nice change o' pace for her."

 

When the company reached the city of Dale, they found it, for the most part, still asleep. Being just an hour past dawn, the riders couldn't blame them –half of the company had fallen asleep in the saddle again before they had reached the city's gate. The dwarvish troop that had joined the humans had turned back towards Erebor, telling Bard that they wished to reunite with their families under the Mountain; but they did promise to tell Dain of the heroics performed by both human and dwarf. Rumor quickly spread throughout those who remained that there would be an enormous feast to celebrate.

Bard led the company through the streets, followed by those who had gone after Baylee, Ori, and Tyko. Behind them was the cart with the two of the returning prisoners along with Tyko, Warren, Richard, Rhovathor, and Caranonel. After them came the rest of the company, who slowly dispersed as they went street, taking the road back to their own homes.

As they came to the Tankard, their numbers greatly reduced by this time, they were greeted by the sight of Adela, Galiene, Demelza, Peter, and Gawen waiting for them. The three women let out squeals of joy and raced towards the group (with the exception of Adela, who had to wobble thanks to the child within her) while the others dismounted. Will nearly fell over from the force of Adela's hug, though he laughed and returned the embrace. Galiene and Demelza found themselves having to awkwardly half-hug Baylee, as she was still in the wagon. Their joy soon turned to horror, however.

"What in the world happened to your hands!?" Galiene cried, holding up Baylee's hands.

"And your face!" Demelza groaned, cupping Baylee's scarred face in her hands. "You're adorable face…"

Baylee winced. "Er…well, it's a wee bit o' a long story…" she murmured, feeling her cheeks turning a dark shade of red.

"She got 'em like the rest o' us." The women looked down as Dwalin came over and opened the back of the cart. "Fightin' a large pack o' warg riders." He didn't see the pure look of horror that came to Galiene's face and the expression of pride that came to Demelza's. "We thought for sure she an' Will were dead when we found 'em, but they were still breathin'. Somehow." He gave Ori a peck on the cheek before lifting him out of the cart and setting him on the ground.

"We're not easy people t' kill," Baylee chuckled.

"That much I know," Demelza mused, "though why are ya in the cart while everyone else came in ridin'?"

Her cheeks once more flushed. "Well, I'm not…really supposed t' walk for a few weeks."

"Not a few weeks." She looked up as Rhovathor hopped into the cart. "At least a week and a half, and after that, you may start to take short walks. You need to give the injury time to heal."

She sighed. "I know, but I feel so lazy!"

Demelza chuckled and gave her shoulder a pat. "Welcome to the realm o' being a fighter –it takes time t' heal."

"I'm not a fighter," Baylee told her, her voice suddenly stern. "I am an innkeeper's daughter; I only fought t' keep myself from dying." She squeaked as Rhovathor lifted her up and let out a hiss of pain when her side was jostled.

Apologizing, Rhovathor carried her out of the cart, hopping onto the ground with ease. Thanks to his elvish grace, Baylee barely felt his movements. "A bath should be prepared for her," he told the two women, "as well as food and bed. For now, I will put her with the dwarves and her brother in the common room."

Galiene nodded. "Aye, we'll have everything ready as soon as we can muster," she told him. "Demelza, come on –I'm goin' t' need your help. You too, Peter!" Grabbing the boy's shoulder, she started to tug him along behind her as she headed for the kitchens.

Baylee frowned. "If ya put me on a stool, I can at least cut vegetables for Galiene an' auntie," she told Rhovathor.

"That is exactly why you are staying in the common room," he explained as he carried her into the inn. As it was still early in the morning, they had barely anyone there –though the few that were present were already chatting excitedly with Will or some of the dwarves. "You only have just come home and you already want to get up and do chores. It will take time for you to adjust, little one, but you do need this rest." He set her down in one of the more cushioned chairs the inn had and scooted her in towards the table.

She groaned and slouched in the chair. "But I'm home. It's me duty t' me family to be running around and serving others."

Rhovathor raised his brow before leaning over the chair and looking her directly in the eye. "Little one, would you like to keep the use of your legs?"

She shrank down slightly. "A-Aye, I would."

"Well, if you were to get up and do your normal routine, I can promise you that you will not be retain that ability for very long. Your hip needs time to heal, especially since I had found it infected. Do you understand?"

Nodding, Baylee glanced away from him as he finally stood up. "I do," she murmured.

"Good. Now, if you will excuse me, I need to go speak with Galiene and Demelza."

Baylee watched as the elf disappeared into the kitchen, where she could hear Galiene giving orders to Demelza and Peter. Bard, Warren, Will, Tyko, and Adela were sitting at the large, round table in the center of the room, already discussing things as they drank ale and tea. Lovisa, she could see, was off to the side with Bifur, filling some mugs for Dori, Nori, Ori, and Dwalin. Where Bofur or Caranonel were, she hadn't the slightest idea.

'Maybe helping with the horses,' she thought, letting her eyes close for a moment. Her side was beginning to ache –an unfortunate side effect that came from sitting up. 'After all, there are a lot of horses to deal with…Gawen will have his hands full for a while, that's for sure.'

"You asleep, lass?"

Opening her eyes, she found Dwalin and the Ri brothers sitting down at her table. "Nah," she replied, giving them a small smile. "Just thinkin' 'bout how many horses poor Gawen's going to have t' bathe an' brush an' stable." She thanked Nori as he slid her a mug of cider.

"Ah, he's got help," Dwalin assured her. "Girish an' a few o' the other blokes are helpin' him. I'm pityin' Galiene an' Demelza –they're goin' t' have a full house today thanks t' us comin' back. Aye, they'll have the help o' Wenna an' Peter, but four people ain't enough t' cover the entire kitchen for a day-long crowd."

Baylee frowned, setting her mug down after taking a swig of the cider. "I know. I told Rhovathor the least he could let me do is sit in the kitchen and chop vegetables, but apparently, I'm not allowed to even do that."

"That's because you need t' rest," Ori told her. "Don't worry about them; I'm sure they'll find a bit more help before the day is through." He gave her a reassuring smile before hiding it with a drink of ale.

"If all else fails," Nori told her, "your da' and brother will go in there to help. No doubt Lovisa will help, too."

Dori sipped his ale. "I believe I saw the elvish woman –Caranonel?- head in there as we were getting our drinks," he mentioned. "I'm sure she'll be of some use to the kitchen –at least, with the salads. Never had a good elvish roast…" He scrunched his nose up at the memory of the prison rations he had been given while within the halls of Mirkwood's palace.

Baylee cocked her brow and let out a small laugh. "Ah, ya best watch it with that sort o' talk around Caranonel. She's the one who taught Galiene how t' roast meat," she informed. "I know you lot have a wee bit o' a thing against the Mirkwood elves, but Caranonel an' Rhovathor aren't from there. I don't know where they're from, exactly, but it's not this side o' the Misty Mountains."

His cheeks turning a bit rest, Dori glanced away and Baylee knew she had made him a bit flustered. Nori and Ori noticed this, too, and laughed. "Ah, you gave him a tellin' off and now he's got his hen-feathers all ruffled," Nori grinned. "Good job! Normally only Gandalf or Balin could do that." He glanced over his shoulder as Zori started to wake up.

"Oh, quiet you!" Dori lightly snapped. "Now look –your loud guffawing's gone and waken the baby."

Shrugging the sling from his back, Nori looked down at his son, who was wriggling about as he started to fuss. "Good morning, Zori. Did you sleep well?" he questioned the infant as he carefully lifted him from the cloth. Zori whined and snuggled against Nori's chest, blinking tiredly at the world. "Ah, someone definitely needs a diaper change," he murmured, his nose scrunching up. "Just a tick…" He excused himself from the table and headed off.

Dori sighed. "He's being a surprisingly good father," he commented. "I never expected Nori to be the type to take on a task such as childrearing, and yet there he is –the only one of us three to be doing just that."

"Well, he did save the wee lad," Dwalin shrugged. "Anyway, Zori took a likin' to him right away. Aye, he likes Baylee an' Lovisa well enough, but Nori's the only one who can seem t' calm him down when he's most upset."

"Still. It's not something I'd ever expected of him…" He sighed, leaning back in his chair as he took another drink of ale.

"Should see him when he's alone with the tyke," Ori grinned. "He starts babbling in baby at him and doesn't act as cool as he does around us."

"Oh?" Baylee chuckled. "An' how d'ya know this?"

A cheeky smile came to his lips. "I caught him once or twice. Seein' him on his stomach, playing with Zori was really adorable."

Baylee laughed. "Oh, I bet it is, considerin' that Nori's normally so stoic." She took another drink of her ale, watching as Demelza and Galiene came hurrying out of the kitchens, each carrying a large tray filled to the brim with food. These they took over to the center table, where they started to arrange the food around Bard, Warren, and the others. 'Can't wait for the food to get over here,' she thought, her stomach growling.

Hearing her stomach, Dwalin let out a quiet laugh. "Gettin' hungry now that yer home, lass?" he asked. His answer came in the form of Baylee blushing as she drank more cider. "Ah, don't worry. We're all achin' for some good food," he told her as he lightly patted her on the back. "How're yeh feelin', by the way? Heard yeh got a spot o' surgery durin' the storm."

"Surgery?" Dori blinked. "Oh dear, what happened?"

She shrugged lightly. "Eh, apparently there was still a tiny bit o' tooth in my side that Hunil had missed –I don't blame him; Rhovathor was barely able t' see it. It caused the wound t' get infected, so he had t' open my hip up t' get it out an' clean away the infection."

Dori winced at the thought. "That doesn't sound pleasant at all. Do you know when you'll be allowed to walk again?"

"Not for a couple of weeks at the least. It's goin' to be boring for me, but I'm goin' t' have to deal with it." She gave them a small smile before looking up; Bifur, Bofur, and Lovisa were carrying trays of food towards them. "I think breakfast has arrived…" she grinned.

"Tha' it has, lass," Bofur grinned. He set one of the trays down between her and Dwalin. "Fresh out o' the pot an' out o' the pan!" Before Baylee he set a bowl of porridge and a plate containing three slices of bacon and two fried eggs as well as a mug of lemon tea. Dwalin got a large plate of sausage, bacon, eggs, and biscuits. Bofur stole Nori's spot next to Baylee and served himself some porridge, eggs, bacon, and sausage. "We've been helpin' you aunt an' Galiene; they were surprised how fast the three o' us were able t' get the food cooked."

"Khazadmâ ghelekh falakat umezêr dônick," Bifur chirped. He served Dori and Ori part of their breakfast while Lovisa gave them the rest. He then pulled out Lovisa's chair for her and made her sit before scooting her chair in and serving her some food. "Khidu blug ramum!" he told the others before heading into the kitchen to get his own food.

Bofur leaned over. "He said 'eat up'," he translated.

"I thought I recognized 'eat'," she smiled, pouring a bit of cream into the porridge. She also sprinkled in some fresh berries and honey before mixing it all together.

The table fell quiet as they began to eat and Baylee took the chance to look around the common room again. Nothing had changed since she had left at the beginning of summer and yet, everything seemed new to her. The tables looked like they had been sanded and gotten a fresh coat of stain even though she knew they hadn't; there were stuff scuff marks and small pieces missing from the occasional knife that missed its place. The ceiling appeared to be taller than when she had left, even though that was quite impossible –maybe it was just the light? Whatever it was, it was making her feel like a stranger in her own home.

'I couldn't have forgotten what the inn looked like during that time, could I?' she thought, her brows furrowing slightly. 'I mean, I was away for quite a while, but I've lived in this place for the last five years. A few weeks shouldn't blur my memory of it…Or maybe this is what soldiers feel like when they've come back from war?' She picked p a piece of bacon and took a bite from it; she was thankful it wasn't nearly as salty as the stuff down in Rhûn. 'I don't want to feel like a soldier. I want to feel like myself…yet everyone's acting as if I am a soldier thanks to what I went through.'

Bofur set his hand atop hers, pulling her from her thoughts. "You alright, lass?" he asked, his voice quiet. She could see the concern written in his features.

"Aye, I'm fine," she replied, giving him a small smile. "I'm just thinkin' 'bout how good it feels t' be home."

"You didn't look too happy when you were doin' the thinkin'," he told her. "Are ya sure you're alright?"

Knowing her father was occupied across the room (he was letting out a hearty laugh at one of Bard's jokes), she leaned over and kissed his cheek. "Aye, I'm sure."

"Good," he smiled. He nudged her mug of tea towards her. "You should drink this before it gets cold; Rhovathor told me t' make sure ya did so."

Her nose scrunched up. "Which means it's more than likely medicinal tea…" Picking up the mug, she moved to take a sip only to be pleasantly surprised. "No. Just lemon tea."

 

Within an hour, everyone had eaten and most had bathed. Bofur was just coming out of the bathing room and was toweling his hair dry when he happened to look up and see a familiar figure –one that was very round and, currently, very red in the face.

"Bombur!" he laughed, more than happy to see his brother. He glanced over his shoulder and called down the hall. "Bifur! Bombur's here!" Dropping the towel, he ran over to his brother and gave him as tight a squeeze as he could manage (since he couldn't fit his arms around him).

"I came as soon as I heard that you lot had come back!" Bombur told him, hugging him in return. He then lightly pushed his brother back so he could get a good look at him. He frowned upon seeing the many scratches and bite marks that covered Bofur's body, all in various states of healing. "Oh Mahal –look at you! You look like a bear mauled you!"

"Not a bear –just a few wargs," Bofur chirped. "You should see some o' the others –they're off far worse than me! But we're all alive an' well."

Bombur didn't seem nearly as pleased by this news as Bofur had imagined he would be, but that was because Bombur was a bit more of a realist than his older brother. "What do you mean, they're off worse? No one's missing any limbs, are they?"

"Oh, no limbs, but a few digits an' an eye," Bofur explained. "Dwalin got an eye clawed out an' Baylee lost two fingers. Ori's arm is broke, I've got these beauties," he pointed at his face, "Will's got his face an' shoulder all scratched up again while Nori's a bit scratched as well. Hmm…what else? Bifur has a few arrow wounds, but he an' Lovisa are the least wounded besides Zori –oh, that's right. Nori's got a baby now!"

Cocking his head, Bombur stared at Bofur, trying to comprehend everything he had just heard. For one thing, he didn't recall who Will, Baylee, Zori, and Lovisa were. Another thing was Dwalin managing to lose an eye –he had gone through the Battle of Five Armies and didn't so much as lose an inch off his beard, let alone a limb- so he knew the battle had to have been fierce. The final thing, however, was what finally made him snap to his senses.

"You…you mean all this time, Nori's been a…a female?" he asked, his voice barely above a nervous whisper and his eyes as wide as saucers.

Bofur stared at him for a moment before bursting into a fit of laughter that sent him rolling onto the floor. "No!" he cackled, tears starting to come to his eyes. "Why in the world would ya go an' think that, Bombur? That's absolutely preposterous, that is!"

He looked away, feeling quite ridiculous at the moment. "Well, then, what do you mean by Nori's got a baby!?" he demanded, his already rosy cheeks growing even redder.

Bofur stood back up, wiping the tears from his eyes. "I mean he's got a baby with him," he explained. "He went an' saved a child that someone tossed out onto the street. Been raisin' him ever since. He's named him Zori."

Bombur slowly nodded, though his brows were furrowed together in contemplation. "So…Everyone is alright, then? You've managed to rescue those who got taken away?"

"Aye, everyone's safe an' sound," he said, leading his brother away to the table he had sat at earlier. "You'll be seein' 'em all soon enough –except Baylee. I think she's bein' taken back to her room thanks to her wound." As he mentioned this, his expression turned a bit sad and it didn't go unnoticed by Bombur.

"Baylee? Bofur, you're going t' have to explain to me who all these people are. The names are familiar –at least, some o' them are- but the others are foreign to me." A tall man strode past their table, three, foaming tankards of ale held in each hand. "I can see why this place is the Full Tankard," he murmured.

Bofur pointed at the man. "That's the owner, Warren Braddock. His son an' daughter are Will an' Baylee Braddock. Baylee is the lass that was kidnapped with Ori an' a human lad," he explained. "Neither one o' them are out here right now, though. You'll recognize Will; he looks just like his da'."

"An' Baylee?"

"Well, like I said, she may not be out here again. If she is, though… She's the pretty lass with ashy hair, freckles, an' the prettiest smile Mahal ever crafted." A silly grin came to his face and Bombur instantly knew that his brother was in love. More proof of this came as Bofur let out a dreamy sigh and plopped his chin in his palm.

Bombur grinned knowingly, but decided to not torment Bofur right now. "And…Lovina?"

Bofur shook his head, snapping out of his little trance. "Ah, aye –Lovisa. She's a half-dwarf," he continued, his cheeks reddening. "An' she's mute, but she knows Iglishmêk thanks t' her da'. Anyway, she's a ranger o' sorts as well as quite a nice lass. Bifur also happens t' think she's got a nice a-"

"Bombur!"

The two of them looked up in time to see Bifur hurrying over. Standing up, Bombur laughed and hugged his freshly-bathed cousin, giving him a hearty pat on the back. "Bofur was just tellin' me about your companions on the adventure."

Bifur smiled fondly at his cousin. "Should been there," he spoke, using his broken Westron. "Had good fight."

Bombur stared at him, his jaw hanging slack in awe. "You…you're speaking…"

"Westron!" Bifur chirped. "Take lot khelech." He frowned slightly as he used the Khuzdul word, but shrugged it off. He let out a small curse as Bombur pulled him into another hug, this one tighter than the last. "Bombur…oataman," he wheezed.

Releasing him, Bombur put his hands on his shoulders –an action that required Bifur to lean forward a bit thanks to his cousin's girth. "I'm proud o' you, cousin," he told him, still wearing a smile. "I know it's no easy task relearnin' Westron, but you're already doing quite well. I'm sure you'll be fluent again in no time!"

Bifur shuffled his feet and tried to look at the floor, feeing quite chuffed by the compliments. "Dolzekh menu, êzban," he murmured.

Bombur sat back down, giving them both warm smiles. "Now, when the two o' you last came to visit, you told me this place had some good food. How 'bout you tell me about your little adventure while I have some breakfast?"

Bifur and Bofur looked at one another, wearing identical looks of slight panic. They knew full well that, if Bombur was hungry, he could easily eat all of the food the Tankard had to offer. Not only that, but the Tankard was already quite full of people who had come to hear the various retellings of the 'dramatic' rescue of those who had been kidnapped, even though most who knew the story were off, bathing.

Bofur clapped him on the shoulder. "I'll get ya some food," he told him, nervously chuckling. "Bifur here will start the tale, though you'll no doubt hear a slightly different version from Ori later, aye?" Before either of them could object, he was on his way towards the kitchens.

~*~*~

Baylee stirred as there was a knock on her door. Burying her face into her pillow, she yawned. "Who is it?" she called, her voice somewhat muffled.

"It's Adela," came the woman's reply. "I've some dinner for ya, lass."

"Then come in." Slowly, so as to not hurt herself, she rolled onto her back and was in the process of propping herself against her headboard when Adela came in, holding a tray with some food on it. "Ya shouldn't be carryin' loads like that 'round –not when you're so far along."

Adela gave her a warm smile, setting the tray down. "It's not that heavy," she assured her. "Anyway, I've not been doing much besides cooking –even that has me sitting down most of the time." Tucking her skirts under her bum, she sat down on the edge of Baylee's bed. "How're you feeling?"

"Tired, but only because I just woke up," Baylee yawned. Covering her mouth, she quickly excused herself.

"I meant injury-wise."

"Oh…Well, me side's still sore, but my hands are finally feelin' better than they have been."

The older woman frowned. "What d'ya mean?" As Baylee held up her hands, she let out a quiet gasp. "Will didn't tell me about this!" she gaped, lightly taking her hands and gently turning them over as she inspected them. "What happened?"

"They were cut off as a punishment," Baylee explained. "I talked back t' the queen o' the raiders an' she thought this would be better 'n cutting out me tongue."

Sighing, Adela let go of her hands and shook her head. "Sounds like you lot went through quite a bit o' torment."

"Aye, but we're home now. That's all that matters, doesn't it?" She gave her a smile. "Dinner smells good. What is it?"

Adela seemed to perk slightly at the topic change. "You've got roasted lamb with mint an' garlic sauce, a spot o' chicken soup, an' I brought ya a wee spot o' dessert." Lifting the tray, she set it over Baylee's lap only to crack up as the small woman let out a cry of joy.

"Lemon cake!" she cried, seeing the large slice sitting next to a mug of tea.

"Aye, lemon cake," Adela smiled. "I had made one for yours an' Will's birthday, but…Well, that one went bad because we forgot about it in our worry."

Nodding in understanding, Baylee forsook her roasted lamb and soup, instead moving to take a bite out of the cake. She closed her eyes, savoring the taste as she leaned back. "Now this is a good cake," she told Adela, moving to take another bite. "Best thing I've eaten in months."

"I bet it is," she laughed. "Though, make sure t' eat some meat, too, otherwise you'll get a stomachache on top o' your other aches an' pains."

"I'll be fine," Baylee chuckled. Despite her words, she lifted the bowl of soup and took a small drink of the broth. "So, Will told me you've been livin' here."

She nodded slowly, tucking a lock of her fiery hair behind her ear. "Aye, I have. It was…not a pleasant situation for me back at the old place when da' found out about your brother 'n me. You know how much he dislikes your da' an' brother."

"An' me," Baylee added with a small nod.

"No so much you, for some reason, but aye. He wasn't happy in the least."

"Will said that he yelled at you in front o' customers."

Sighing, Adela nodded and looked down at her lap. "Aye, he did," she murmured. "Embarrassed me in front o' 'bout thirty people. I didn't stay long enough t' see if any o' them did anythin'; I just grabbed me cloak an' ran out o' there."

Baylee gave her a pitying look. "Well, ya don't have t' worry 'bout being treated ill here," she told her. "Though, I'm sure ya know that well enough by now." She took a bite out of the lamb, leaning back against her headboard once more. "Especially when tha' lil' one o' yours comes into the world. Then you'll be gettin' spoiled."

"Not as spoiled as this one will be." She looked down at her stomach and smiled as she rubbed it. "Your brother an' I just need t' get married now. Warren's made that much clear t' us –that he's not havin' me go through the same thing Éolynna had t' go through when she gave birth t' you two."

At that, Baylee chuckled. "Well, Will's not havin' t' travel all the way t' Rohan t' ask your family for permission t' marry you, is he?"

She smiled at that comment. "I guess not," she agreed. "Though…Baylee…how do you feel 'bout the two o' us gettin' married?"

Baylee raised her brow, chewing on a bit more lamb. "What d'ya mean?" she asked through a mouthful of food. She hoped Adela would forgive her current lack of manners; she had missed Galiene and Demelza's cooking.

"Well, you're the person who's closest to Will," she told her, "bein' his twin an' all. I've heard tha' sometimes people get…well, jealous when their sibling gets a beau."

"Adela, ever since Will started courtin' you –even if it was a secret courtship at first- I haven't seen him happier." She set her knife down and plucked up her soup again, taking a long, slow drink of the broth. "Will's a handsome bloke, aye, but not many women find him appealin' thanks t' his scars. An' yet, there you are –the prettiest woman in town an' madly in love with him. I'm not jealous in the least; I'm happy for the two o' you."

Her cheeks flushed red. "Really?"

"Aye!" she chuckled. She blinked as Adela suddenly hugged her, thought she let out a small laugh. "Were ya that worried about it, Adela?"

"Knowin' that we have your blessin' is almost as good as knowin' we've got Warren's blessing," she told her. "Like I said, you're his twin. You're the person who's closest to Will."

"Oh, I think you're the one who's closest to him now," Baylee joked. "After all, you are havin' his baby."

Adela gawked at her, not knowing Baylee to be the sort to make bawdy jokes. Despite this, she ended up in a fit of giggles. "I think you've been around those dwarves a bit too long!"

"They're a fun lot," Baylee grinned. "Even if they can be a bit…crude at times, but what's the harm in an occasional bawdy joke?" She took another bite of the cake. "An' they're all around just nice folk. At least, the ones I've met are."

"Speakin' o' which, there's a new dwarf in the inn now."

She glanced up. "Really? Who?"

"Bofur's brother, I think. I didn't catch his name, though."

"Ah! Bombur!" she chirped. "He probably heard that we were back an' wanted t' check on Bofur an' Bifur." She took a drink of her tea, finding that it was plain black tea with a bit of honey to sweeten it.

"I take it they've told ya about him quite a bit?"

"Well, Bofur has," she explained. "He's mentioned once or twice how he thinks I should visit with him one day so I can meet Bombur an' Gerdi an' their children."

Adela cocked her brow. "Is that so?" she mused.

"Aye," Baylee chirped before finishing off her lamb.

"Then the two o' you are quite close?"

Baylee's chewing slowed and her cheeks started to redden. They only got redder when she saw the mischievous and knowing grin on the redhead's lips.

"I knew it!" Adela giggled. "I had a feelin' the two o' you were hidin' a courtship when I saw how he was treatin' ya at breakfast!"

"I-It's not like tha'!" she argued, cheeks as red as Adela's hair. "We're just…we're just tryin' t' find out the best way t' tell papa is all. After all, he wasn't too keen on the idea o' me takin' a dwarf as a beau…even if he did help t' save me…"

Adela stood up, smiling knowingly. "Just don't do it the way you brother an' I had to. Make it a pleasant surprise for your da' this time around, aye?"

"I think, for now, it's best t' just let him calm down from havin' me back home. Otherwise, the shock may be too much for him."

"Oh, come now –you courtin' a dwarf isn't that bad. Bofur's a sweetheart an' your da' seems t' get along well enough with him!"

Baylee raised her brow as she took another drink of her tea. "It's not that part I'm worried about –it's the fact that I'm actually courtin' someone that'll surprise him."

Adela gave her a stern look, her hands resting on her hips. "And just why would that surprise him?" she demanded.

"Because…most males don't find me the sort they'd like t' court?" She shrugged. "I don't know. Bofur's just the first male who ever t' want t' pursue any sort o' romance with me an' I'm fine with that. Frankly, I'd trade all the males in Dale for one Bofur; none o' them are as much o' a sweetheart as he is."

Adela's look softened. "Good. For a moment, I thought you were goin' t' go off on how you're not pretty enough or tall enough for the men 'round here –because if that's all a man wants a woman for, he isn't worth it." She picked up Baylee's now-empty tray, though she set the tea on the nightstand. "Though, I'm tellin' you this as a warning: Word's spreadin' through town quite fast about how ya helped slay a bunch o' wargs an' their riders. When the boyos start hearin' about that, they're going to be linin' up at the door for the chance t' be with you."

Baylee snorted. "Well, they can go ahead an' line up, but I'm not goin' t' look twice at 'em," she laughed. "I'm quite content with Bofur. Anyway, I'm sure none o' them have as fine o' a mustache as him."

"Oh, I'm sure they don't –that is, unless some dwarf boyos line up as well. They may have better mustaches an' beards."

She dismissively waved her hand. "Bofur's got just the right amount o' facial hair. If he had a beard like Bifur, Dwalin, or Nori, it'd be too hard t' kiss him!" she giggled. Reaching over, she grabbed her tea and took a sip from it. "Though, I must admit –It is nice bein' the tall one for once."

"Just imagine –if ya go t' Erebor with him for a bit, then you'll be havin' t' duck in all the doorways!" she teased. She ducked as Baylee tossed a pillow at her. "I'm onl' tellin' the truth!" she giggled, leaning down and picking the pillow up. She tossed it back onto the bed.

"Oh, I highly doubt I'll be hittin' my head; I'm barely a quarter span taller than Dwalin!"

"You'd still be the tallest," she grinned. "You'll be a giant amongst the short folk."

"Ha, ha."


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! Sorry about the shortness of this chapter. I've been wrestling with it the last few days, trying to see if I liked it longer or if I liked it this length. In the end, it was this (the short) version that won out. I hope you all enjoy it~ Oh! And before I forget, if any of you like Harry Potter, I've started up a fanfiction called Sugar, Spice, and a Hint of Pepper Imps and it focuses on the Weasley Twins and Lee Jordan as well as a couple of OCs. I've posted the first chapter, so if you'd like, you can check that out~!

Bofur yawned as he sat across from Bombur at breakfast the next morning. Spooning some porridge into his mouth, he propped his chin up on his fist, doing his best to stay awake; it was a hard feat to accomplish, since he had stayed up until the wee hours of morning partying with the other returning travelers. As such, he was left thoroughly exhausted (with a bit of a hangover) and wanting little more than to eat before returning to bed. Of course, that wasn’t possible –his bed was back at the toy shop and he was currently in the common room of the Full Tankard.

Bombur, on the other hand, seemed positively lively. Then again, he had been the smart brother and had gone to bed quite earlier than the rest of his fellow dwarrows. His appetite showed his good mood: A plate stacked with sausages, a large bowl of porridge, six fried eggs, seven pieces of crispy bacon, and three biscuits currently sat in front of him as he ate away. Bofur knew full well that this was a meager amount of food for his brother; Bombur could easily eat half of the Tankard’s pantry in just one sitting. It was a wonder that he was still able to fit through doors…

“So, Bofur,” Bombur began, speaking in Khuzdul, “I’ve heard word from a few trusty sources that you’ve managed to get yourself a lass.”

Bofur looked up, managing to look quite surprised for how tired he was. “What? Who told you?” he demanded, not realizing that he had dunked his porridge spoon into his mug of tea. When he noticed the error, he frowned and felt thankful that no porridge had been clinging to the wooden utensil.

There was a mischievous twinkle in Bombur’s eye as he watched his brother pull the spoon from his tea. “Oh, come on, brother –the drink was flowing freely last night and so the tongues were wagging! You know our friends as well as I do; they’re ghastly secret-keepers. Out of the ten of us that remain, only Dwalin, Balin, Oin, and Gloin are any good at it.”

Swallowing some of his porridge-infused tea, Bofur felt his cheeks redden. “I was supposed t’ tell you myself,” he grumbled. “I just hope no one else heard…” Shaking his head, he stole a piece of Bombur’s bacon and crumbled it into his porridge –a habit he had picked up from Baylee.

Bombur chortled. “So tell me! Who’s the lucky lass?” Peering around the room, he tried to guess out of the females he could see. “Is it that lass over there?” He pointed at Lovisa as she served Will and Adela some griddle cakes and Warren a stack of fried eggs and bacon.

“Oh no!” Bofur laughed. “If anything, that one’s Bifur’s lass.”

Bombur gaped at his brother, shocked. “Bifur has a lass as well?”

“Well, not really but…” He shrugged. “The two o’ them get along so well, we all know that they’ll end up married soon enough. They’ve practically taken care o’ the whole group by themselves as we came back from Rhûn.”

“Good for him! She seems like a nice enough lass from what the two o’ you were telling me last night.” He started to cut up one of his sausages, sliding half of the pieces into Bofur’s porridge bowl. “And she’s certainly quite a sight –not as beautiful as my Gerdi, but she’d most definitely turn quite a few heads in Erebor!”

A tired smile came to Bofur’s lips. “That’s a high compliment, coming from you! You think Gerdi’s as beautiful as the sun!”

At that, Bombur frowned. “She’s as beautiful as the sun and moon,” he corrected. He straightened up in his seat slightly, seeming almost offended by Bofur’s understatement. “Anyway, let’s get back to your lass. Is she in the room right now?”

Bofur shook his head. “No, she’s not; the injuries she sustained durin’ the trip keep her from walking, so she’s back in her room.”

Bombur raised his brow. “She lives here…?” He plucked up his ale and took a large drink from it. Setting the mug down, he sucked the foamed out of his mustache.

He waited for his brother to become distracted by his breakfast again. “Well, she’s sort of…the innkeeper’s daughter.” Watching his brother’s eyes widen, he was glad that he had waited.

“She’s what?”

“The innkeeper’s daughter.”

Trying to be subtle (a hard feat for a dwarf of Bombur’s size), he glanced over his shoulder and stared at Warren. “His…daughter?”

“Mhm. An’ that’s her twin brother beside him.” As he was busy eating, he failed to notice the look of horror on Bombur’s face.

“Bofur…they’re enormous!” he whispered loudly. “How can you court someone who stands twice the height of yourself!?”

Bofur stared at his brother for a moment, a bit of sausage tucked, half-chewed, into his cheek, making it stick out like a squirrel’s cheek. He then burst out laughing, having to set his spoon down. “Bombur! She’s not even close t’ their size!”

Bombur frowned once more. “What do you mean? They’re giants, Bofur, and you said that the lad over there is her twin. Her twin!” He let out a noise of despair as he slumped back (another hard feat) in his chair. “What will the family think when they find out you’re courting a tall folk?” he moaned.

Rolling his eyes, Bofur leaned forward and patted his brother on the arm. “Baylee’s barely taller than Dwalin, I promise.”

“Oh, we’ll see about that!” he scolded. “I’m not against the tall folk in any way, but things start to get messy when one starts courting a dwarrow.” He almost instantly knew he had phrased that the wrong way.

“Messy?” he smirked. “I suppose, but only when the trousers or skirts are remo-”

“Bofur!”

“Sorry! Been around Nori too long, I suppose.” Despite the apology, he still wore a cheeky grin.

Giving him a scolding look, Bombur shook his head. “Well, you need to stop if that’s where your mind goes when I say a simple phrase,” he told him. “Especially now that you’re courting someone! Say the wrong thing around her brother or father and they’ll hammer you into the ground like a peg and you know it!”

Bofur merely grinned. “Oh, don’t worry. It’s not a thing I often do. However! You’ll be meeting her after breakfast.”

Grumbled, Bombur went back to cutting up sausages and an egg or two. “Is that so?”

“Yes. Truthfully, there’s a wee bit o’ selfishness behind it.”

“Oh?” He took another drink from his ale before taking a bite of sausage.

Nodding, Bofur shoved the last bite of his porridge into his mouth. “You see…she needs to stay somewhere that isn’t this inn. She can’t get the constant attention and care she needs here; everyone’s too busy serving the patrons or cookin’ away in the kitchen and with her room at the very back of the building.”

“That doesn’t sound very selfish.”

“It does when I tell you I’d like her to stay with you and Gerdi.”

His brow rose. “With me and Gerdi? Bofur, are you sure you’re thinking about this correctly –I mean, we do have quite a number of children…”

“Aye, you do, but it’s either you or Dori.”

At that, Bombur cringed slightly; even he knew that Dori was a fusspot when it came to taking care of people. “I see. Well, it’s something I’d have to discuss with Gerdi, you know. I’m sure she’d like to meet this woman for herself before bringing her into our home…”

He nodded in understanding. “Well, Bifur and I were thinking about keeping her in our part o’ the mansion. You know, since it’s quieter? But he an’ Lovisa can’t always be there for her an’ the lass could really use a bit o’ motherly care.”

“I suppose that means the lass’ mother is no longer with us…?”

He shook his head. “She died in the War.”

Bombur’s fiery brow tried to knit themselves together. “What? Don’t you mean the sacking of Lake Town?”

Bofur shook his head, chewing on a link of sausage he stole from his brother. “Nay. She, Baylee, an’ Baylee’s aunt fought in the actual battle, believe it or not. I’m not sure about where they fought, but they did. Demelza an’ Baylee both have scars to prove it.”

“Huh. I would have never guessed a female human would be able to fight in a war,” he admitted. “They’ve always seemed so…so fragile.”

“The Braddock family is a hardy family,” Bofur grinned. “I think you’ll approve of Baylee partially because o’ it. She’s sweet, kind, a good cook, pretty…” A dreamy grin started to come to his face as he held his mug of tea between his hands. “She’s got the prettiest green eyes, Bombur; I swear to Mahal, they’re actually peridots amongst pearls. And her smile! It’s so honest and sweet…”

Chuckling, Bombur shook his head. “Bofur, my beloved brother, I think you have fallen hard for this woman,” he told him. He was glad to see his brother in such a love-struck state again, but at the same time, he couldn’t help but worry. Of all the relationships between a human and a dwarf he had heard of, very few of them actually ended happily. He prayed to Mahal that Bofur would have one of the happy endings.

“Aye, I have,” he happily sighed. “And I don’t think I’ll be getting back up any time soon.”

**

Nearly half an hour later found the two dwarves walking down the hall in the family section of the inn. As it was Bofur’s first time in this part of the inn, he felt a bit nervous –not only was he secretly courting Baylee, but now he was being welcomed into the family’s home by Warren, who led the way for the two dwarves. When they came to Baylee’s door, he patted Bofur on the shoulder and left, having to attend to a number of dented pots and pans that had accumulated while he was gone.

Swallowing hard, Bofur knocked on the door.

“Who is it?” came Baylee’s voice.

“Bofur!” he replied. “An’ I’ve brought a visitor.”

“Oh? Who?”

He pressed his ear against the door, trying to hear if her voice was moving throughout the room. “My brother, Bombur. Is that alright?”

“Aye, it’s fine!” She sounded stationary enough, so Bofur knew he wouldn’t have to give her a scolding. “Both o’ you can come in; I’m decent. Just brushing my hair.”

Opening the door, Bofur lead the way in. He glanced around the room, finding it sparsely furnished –only a few tapestries hung on the walls, there was a table and stool by her bed, and a trunk sat at the foot of her bed. Baylee smiled at the two dwarves as they came in, her hands in the process of brushing out her short locks. Bofur returned the smile, albeit a bit sadly; he missed her long hair, but knew it could not have been helped.

“Baylee, this is Bombur, me younger brother,” he introduced, motioning between the two beings. “An’ Bombur, this is Baylee.”

“It’s a pleasure t’ meet you,” Baylee told Bombur, still smiling. She held her hand out to shake only to be taken by surprise as Bombur bowed and gently kissed the back of her hand.

“Bombur at your service, milady!” he replied as he released her hand. “My brother’s told me much about you.” He wore a jovial smile as he spoke, an expression that made his eyes nearly disappear behind his rosy cheeks. He wouldn’t admit it to his brother, but he was quite relieved to find that this human was much smaller than the rest of Dale.

Her cheeks flushed a bit, leaving her skin a light shade of pink. “Has he now?” she mused, glancing at Bofur. “I hope none o’ it was bad!”

Bofur dismissively waved his hand at her. “Don’t be silly, Baylee. I’d never speak ill o’ ya! Especially after everything ya had to go through.” He leaned over the side of the bed and kissed her cheek. “Have you had breakfast yet?”

“O’ course. Adela brought me some long before you woke up,” she chuckled. “So, Bombur –What brings ya t’ our humble inn?”

“Well, to be honest, I wanted to make sure my brother and cousin had returned from their little excursion in one piece,” he admitted. “And I’m glad to see that they have! Though, I am sorry to hear that you and Dwalin weren’t so lucky.”

She waved her hand. “I’d rather lose some fingers than my head,” she replied. “An’ I’m sure Dwalin feels the same about his eye.”

He nodded in understanding. “I trust you’re not in too much pain anymore?”

“Not too much in the hands,” she answered, looking over the bandages. They no longer had bloodstains over her fingers, but she knew it’d be a week or two yet before they were completely healed. “Hopefully, when I’m up and about, they won’t prove t’ work too much differently than when I had all ten fingers; it’s nearly blackberry season and I’m goin’ t’ be busy making lots o’ pies and cobblers.”

At that, Bombur’s eyes lit up. “Is that so?”

She nodded and wore a rather proud grin. “Me blackberry pies an’ cobblers are the best in Dale an’ Lake Town,” she told him.

“I like blackberries,” Bofur chirped. “We didn’t get them much over in Ered Luin.”

Bombur shook head his. “No, we didn’t…but we had plenty of strawberries an’ raspberries,” he added. “Blackberries never really took to the area. We had to import them from the Shire.”

“Luckily, they’re overly abundant up here,” she chuckled, setting her brush down on her nightstand. “Ya won’t run out o’ them –unless ya can’t eat ‘em fast enough an’ they rot. That ends up happening quite a bit.”

“I would imagine! After all, the sides of Erebor an’ Dale are lined with the things,” Bombur chuckled. “But from the sounds of it, I’ll have to have Bifur and Bofur send me a few of your pies.”

“You mean a dozen o’ ‘em!” Bofur laughed. “Between you, Gerdi, an’ your children, one pie won’t be nearly enough!”

Puffing up slightly from embarrassment, Bombur gave his brother a look. “If I recall correctly, it was you who ate five o’ Gerdi’s pies last year around Yuletide.”

A cheeky grin came to Bofur’s lips. “Oi, I never said I didn’t have a healthy appetite for good cookin’,” he joked, earning a quiet giggle from Baylee. “Just ask Baylee here –I think I’ve gained a few pounds since our first night here thanks t’ Galiene.”

“Aye, but you went an’ lost them all again when you an’ the others came after Ori, Tyko, an’ me,” she teased, poking his stomach. “An’ then some! Your belt’s on the loose side an’ your shirt’s a wee bit baggy around your belly.”

He patted his stomach. “Looks like I’ll have t’ have me some o’ those pies o’ yours t’ make up for it,” he beamed, giving her a small wink. “After all, what use is a skinny dwarf, eh?”

Again, she quietly giggled. “Hard sayin’. I think Ori’s the skinniest one I’ve seen, an’ he’s still got himself a wee belly. But he certainly has his uses –especially when it comes t’ noticing details.”

“Aye, that’s why the lad makes such an excellent scribe!” Bombur agreed. “He’s also a big help when I’m tryin’ to come up with a new recipe, since he pays attention to what goes into things while I’m runnin’ around, just throwing things into the pot.”

“Bombur, you don’t ‘run about’. It’s more like ‘waddle about’,” Bofur grinned.

Pouting, Bombur gave his brother a light shove. “Shush, you.”

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Lovisa let out a quiet sigh as she sat off in a corner of the common room, doing her best to brush through her floor-length hair. Because it was so long, she was tempted to go against every dwarvish fiber of her being and cut most of it off. It would certainly be less of a hassle to deal with every morning –and it would be much lighter. At the same time, however, she knew that if she were to cut it, she would not be able to do as intricate of braid work. That would be a shame, since she felt that her braids were the most attractive part of herself (even if most males thought differently).

Her arms growing a bit tired, she set the brush down, instead picking up her tea. Closing her eyes, she flicked her locks over her shoulder and propped her feet up on the table. It wasn’t the best of manners, having had to scold Will and Baylee for doing such things in their youth, but she felt strangely tired that day and didn’t care much. As she sipped her tea, she could hear the patrons walking around the common room as they found places to sit and the employees serving them. Somewhere towards the bar, Dwalin was flirting with Ori and at a table closer to her, Nori was feeding Zori some mashed yams and biscuits. She quietly chuckled as Zori let out a loud noise of approval.

And then someone started to walk towards her.

She opened her eyes just in time to see someone snatch up her hairbrush and grab a chair. A small noise of protest left her mouth, but then she felt a pair of strong hands scoop up a quarter of her hair only to begin the arduous task of brushing it. Blinking, she turned around and saw Bifur working through the ends of her hair, being as gentle as he could. Almost instantly, her cheeks flushed a deep shade of red.

‘What doing?’ she signed.

“Brushing your hair,” he replied in Khuzdul.

‘Why?’ She noticed that Dwalin had fallen quiet, but didn’t move to look at him.

“You looked like you could use some help.” His tone was cheery enough, though Lovisa could see that, under his beard, his cheeks were a bright shade of red as well. “And with all this hair, I don’t blame you.”

She took a sip of her tea, turning back around; she knew Bifur wouldn’t hurt her hair. ‘Almost too long. May cut it.’

“I can see why you’d want to do that,” he chuckled. “You do have a lot of hair, after all. I don’t think there are any females in Erebor with hair as long as yours.”

Her cheeks darkened a bit more. ‘Only reason keep long is to braid,’ she explained. ‘Is large burden. Heavy, too!’

A quiet laugh left his mouth. “I bet. If you were to cut it, how much would you cut off?”

She shrugged. ‘Some days feel like all.’

“But if you cut all of it off, then what would I have to brush?” He grinned, able to see the smile that came to her lips. “Anyway, it’s too pretty to cut all of it off.”

‘Just white hair.’

“Yes, but it’s pretty white hair.” Setting the brush down, he started to separate her hair into sections and those sections into sections. He stood up and started to make a braid that encircled her scalp. As he did so, he was entirely aware of the staring eyes of Dwalin, Ori, and Nori; they would poke fun at him later, but for now, he didn’t care. He had grown quite fond of Lovisa and wanted to let her know in one of the most affectionate ways a dwarf could –and by Mahal’s beard, was he going to show her.

Lovisa nervously licked her lower lip before lightly biting it. She tried to peek over her shoulder to see what Bifur was doing to her hair, but every time she tried, he’d lightly force her head forwards again. Taking a drink of her tea, she could feel him starting to make a smaller braid around her scalp and her blush darkened. He was getting rather intricate…

During his life, her father had constantly told her that she shouldn’t let a male dwarf touch her hair unless she planned to marry him. While she knew Bifur was a very gentle and caring dwarf (and handsome), she didn’t know if she wanted to marry him. What didn’t help was that she had never pictured herself getting married, as much as she’d like to. She had only courted two males in her life, after all –and they had grown a bit tired of her when she didn’t prove to be as easy to get into bed as the local barmaids. She started to wonder if Bifur had ever courted anyone and, if he had, what they had been like.

“Are you comfortable?” Bifur asked after some minutes had passed. He still spoke in Khuzdul, finding it easier to use for the time being.

‘Yes. Wondering what are doing.’

“Braiding and brushing your hair.”

She rolled her eyes, a small, hoarse laugh leaving her throat. ‘Very funny.’ Taking another drink of her tea, she set the mug back down on the table.

“It’s the truth,” he told her. Setting her brush down, he started to weave the loose, untwisted ends of the three braids he had already made.

He glanced up, looking around the common room to see what all he was missing. Dwalin and Ori had disappeared from the ale barrels –in fact, they had disappeared completely- and Dori was now sitting at the table with Nori while Zori smashed mashed yams onto his face. Nori, though, was looking right at Bifur and Lovisa, his eyes slightly narrowed. Bifur couldn’t tell if he was glaring or if he was simply trying to drown out Dori’s babbling.

Bifur, however, was betting on the former option.

~*~*~*~*~*~* 

Warren felt nervous. It had been a long while since he last felt such a way, but knowing he had to tell Baylee that she would be leaving the next day for Erebor left him feeling anxious. He was damned sure that Baylee would object to the whole plan –no one had asked for her input, even if she knew that this was being done for her own good. After all, she had only been home for a day and a half; to suddenly send her away again could bring about her rarely-seen anger.

So, in order to quell her potential wrath, he had gone out and bought her some of her favorite sweets. It had meant that he had to be up before sunrise, but getting the freshly-made candies before everyone else would (hopefully) be worth it. In addition to the candies, he had also convinced Adela to make another lemon tart for her as well as had Galiene make some chicken and sausage stew for her.

Knocking on the door to his daughter’s room, sweets in hand, he took a deep breath. “Baylee, love? Can I come in?”

“O’ course you can, papa.”

As he entered her room, he found that she was propped up on a pile of pillows while she attempted to do some needlepoint. A small smile came to his lips as he walked over to the bed, moving to sit on the edge of it.

“How’re ya doin’?”

She gave him a somewhat frustrated smile. “Alright. Side aches a little, but eh…I’m trying to do a wee bit o’ needlepoint.”

“I see that!” he chuckled. “What’re ya makin’?”

Holding the cloth over to him, she sighed. “It’s supposed t’ be a flower, but it’s just lookin’ like a pink goblin.”

Warren laughed; her words were true. Her work so far did not quite resemble a flower. “I hate t’ say it, love, but now I can only see the goblin.” He handed the cloth back to her.

Baylee thoughtfully looked it over. “Think I’ll name him Jorvik Skullcrusher, the dandy goblin.”

“A dandy goblin?” Warren repeated, his brow rising. “I didn’t know there was such a thing.”

She shrugged. “Me neither.” Giggling, she tucked the needle through the cloth before tossing it aside. “Maybe I’d be better at writin’ stories than sewing things. I’m a bit wasted on that sort o’ thing.”

Leaning over, Warren lightly ruffled her hair. “Ah, you’ll find your place eventually, love. For now, though, I’ve brought ya a small present.” He plopped the bag of sweets in her lap.

Her brow rising, she cautiously looked into the bag before letting out a surprised noise. “Thank-you, papa!” she grinned. Sticking her hand in the bag, she pulled out a handful of the brightly-colored treats, sorting through them to see which one she wanted first. She picked out a red one and popped it in her mouth.

“So, I heard ya got t’ meet Bombur today,” he commented, trying to sound casual. “How’d you like him?” He musingly stroked his beard.

“He’s just as sweet an’ funny as Bofur,” she answered, tucking the candy in the corner of her mouth. Plucking up a black one, she held it out to her father. “You can have this one.”

His brow rose as he took it. “Why this one?”

“It’s licorice.”

“Ah,” he grinned, knowing she didn’t like the strong anise flavor. He tossed it into his mouth. “How would ya feel about meeting the rest o’ Bombur’s family?”

She shrugged, letting the rest of the sweets slide back into the bag. “They sound like a nice lot; from what Bofur an’ Bombur were tellin’ me, Gerdi is a bit like a mix between Adela, Galiene, an’ Lovisa. Lots o’ children, too, though most o’ them are grown.” Curiously, she glanced up at her father. “Why d’ya ask?”

“Well…I wanted t’ see if ya liked him well enough because…” Glancing away, he nervously rubbed his upper arm, “because tomorrow you may be leavin’ with Bifur, Bofur, Bombur, an’ Lovisa for Erebor.”

It was so quiet, he could have heard a pin drop –in fact, he did hear a pin drop, because Baylee’s needlepoint slid off of the bed and landed on the floor. Baylee stared at her father, a mixture of confusion and horror on her face. Warren, however, couldn’t bear to look at his daughter. He gazed at the floor, a guilty expression on his features.

“But…I only just got home, papa.” Her voice was small and almost scared sounding. Warren’s heart nearly broke as he heard it.

“I know, ‘Lee.” His voice was soft as he leaned over, carefully scooping her into his arms. “I know. But…ya can’t get the proper care while you’re here. You’re just too far away from the hustle an’ bustle of the common room for any o’ us t’ keep runnin’ back here t’ check on you.” Kissing the top of her head, he sighed. “We need ya t’ get better and if we keep forgetting ‘bout you way back here, that won’t happen. You’ll just get up an’ walk around yourself, which will only further irritate your wound.”

She glanced up at him. “Why can’t Caranonel or Rhovathor be my caretakers?”

He shook his head. “They’re already gone again; they’re on their way t’ Lake Town.” Sighing, he closed his eyes. Thanks to Baylee’s smallness, she still felt like nothing more than a child to him; then again, she would alwaysbe his little girl. “They’ll be back in a month or so.”

Nodding slowly, Baylee closed her eyes as well. “I guess Will won’t be comin’ along with me?”

“He can walk. You can’t.”

“I can, I’m just not bein’ allowed to.”

“Baylee, you know very well that ya can’t walk more ‘n three steps. I watched when you tried to get out o’ bed this morning –it wasn’t pleasant in the least an’ I imagine it was worse for you.” He looked down at her, a stern frown on his lips. “Which is why you’ll be goin’ t’ Erebor in the morning. Bombur an’ his wife will take plenty good care o’ you –Not to mention, Bifur an’ Lovisa are going t’ be there, too. They’ll make sure you get all the care you need.”

She still did not look at her father. “How long are Bofur, Bifur, an’ Lovisa stayin’?”

“Bofur’s goin’ t’ stay a few days t’ make sure you get settled in. Bifur an’ Lovisa are goin’ t’ stay the whole time you’re there.” He gave her a gentle, but reassuring, squeeze. “You’ll be well taken care of while there, I promise.”

She sighed. “But it won’t be home…”


	27. 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is beyond late and I am so freaking sorry! For almost a month, I was without a computer that I could work on my stuff with. Only recently did I get a personal computer back, so I've been doing my best to write like crazy to get this chapter out for you guys! Ugh, I feel so bad ;__; I did my best to make this chapter extra cute to make it up to you all. For those of you who are still around and still reading this sucker, thank you so much! I love you all and appreciate that you guys are still enjoying this~!

Bombur was fast asleep and, as usual, snoring loud enough to keep his brother awake for half the night. What did not help the situation was that Bofur had given up his bed in the tradition of guests receiving the best bed in the house; this meant that while Bombur had a nice, soft feather bed to rest his portly self on, Bofur was down on the (somewhat drafty; he and Bifur would have to fix that come winter) floor. When he wasn’t dreaming of himself sitting in the shop, watching as children played with the toys he and Bifur made, he was tossing and turning while using the ears of his hat to try and drown out his brother’s snoring.

Bifur, he thought, was lucky. Bifur could sleep through an avalanche and wake up feeling as refreshed as a freshly-bloomed daisy. Bofur did take some twisted form of comfort, however, in knowing that Bombur only snored this loud when he was not sleeping well. His brother had never liked being away from his family for any stretch of time, especially when he had an infant back home.

‘I’m just glad he’s not at the inn right now,’ he thought, sitting up. Squinting through the dark room, he peered in the direction of one of the windows. To the east, the horizon was a bright, pinkish-orange color brought only by the rising sun. With a heavy sigh, he brought himself up to his feet and brushed himself off. ‘Can’t sleep, so I may as well get up to have some tea before breakfast.’ Pulling on his boots, he carefully made his way downstairs.

Breakfast, he guessed, would come in a couple of hours. There was no way in Middle Earth that Galiene or Adela would be awake at this hour –especially since it was summer. The only people who were up at this time were farmers and there were none within the walls of Dale.

Crouching down, he gathered up the burnt pieces from last night’s fire and gathered them together in the center of the hearth, forming a sort of cone shape. Between them, he slipped dry wood shavings –both fine and large- before grabbing the starting flint and striking it. It took him a couple of tries, but soon he had a small, but hot, fire burning and the kettle set over it.

All the while, he could hear Bombur’s snoring.

‘He could wake the dead with that snore of his,’ he thought, going to check on the front room of the store. He brought a lit candle with him, knowing that no light could reach it otherwise. ‘Thankfully, if he does that at all over the next few weeks, there’s three walls of stone separating him from Baylee and Lovisa. The two of them are most definitely going to need their rest, what with the herd of dwarrowlings Bombur and Gerdi have…’

Shaking his head, he started to walk around and take mental notes of which toys would need restocking soon. The kites, for one, were nearly out, as were the toy birds Bifur made. The wooden puzzles Bofur was quite skilled at making were going rather fast; he’d have to spend some time to make new ones here soon. Some of the pull-along animals needed to be restocked –namely the dogs and cats, though he was surprised to see that a fair amount of deer and cows had sold.

By the time the kettle began to whistle, he had a taken a full inventory of the storefront and knew just what to write down for Will restock. Putting some dried tea leaves in the bottom of the teapot, he filled it up with the boiling water so it could steep.

‘Maybe when I come back in a day or two,’ he thought, wandering off to find some paper and a bit of charcoal or ink, ‘I can start teaching the lad how to make puzzles. Those are simple enough…anyway, I don’t think he’d like carving wee dollies just yet.’ He found himself in the storefront again, scrounging behind the counter for any sort of writing utensil. Instead, what he found was a small cedar box. “What’s this then?” he quietly asked aloud.

Opening it, he found it to be the charm bracelet he had made for Baylee’s birthday. His eyes widened. “Well blast me and scald me!” he murmured under his breath. Closing the box, he tucked it into the pocket of his vest. ‘I was supposed to give that to her ages ago,’ he thought, grabbing a sheet of parchment and a stick of charcoal. He brought both into the kitchen. ‘But, I guess certain circumstances prevented that from happening. Can’t believe I wholly forgot about it, though! Good thing I needed to find some writing utensils!’

By the time Bifur and Bombur had woke up and come tramping down the stairs, Bofur had a fairly long list of things Will would need to do around the shop so that it maintained some semblance of order. He made his cousin and brother a mug of tea, finding himself in too good of a mood to scold Bombur about his obnoxious snoring.

“What’s got you in so good of a mood this morning?” Bombur asked, taking the mug that was offered to him. As he sat down, he ignored the stool as it creaked under his girth. “Did you sleep well or is it because you’ve already had a nip of the ale?”

“Neither,” he replied. “In fact, I hardly slept at all. But ya know me, Bombur.” He added a small bit of honey to his (third) cup of tea. “I think there’s no point t’ being in a bad mood. Not only does it ruin your day, but it ruins everyone else’s as well.”

Bifur nodded in agreement. “Good mood, better health,” he added, keeping up the practice of his Westron. He dared to take a sip of his tea, but found it still far too hot.

Bombur raised his brow, but merely nodded. “If you insist,” he said after some minutes. “Though, if you don’t mind my asking –why didn’t you sleep well?”

Bofur cleared his throat before lolling his head to the side and closing his eyes. He then started to loudly imitate Bombur’s snoring in a highly accurate manner. Bombur’s cheeks turned beet red and he puffed up his chest, feeling quite indignant and embarrassed by his brother’s antics. It didn’t help that, beside him, Bifur was doing his best to not laugh –though he was failing miserably.

“I’ll have you know that you weren’t the only one having trouble sleeping!” he pouted. “Your bed isn’t nearly as soft as mine and Gerdi’s.”

“Because I’m more used t’ sleepin’ on the ground than you ever will be,” Bofur grinned. “That, an’ I don’t like beds that are too soft. Ya kind o’ sink into those and it gets hard t’ get back up out o’ the bed. Soot an’ ashes; just give me a blanket or two an’ a pillow an’ I’m good t’ go!” He took a long drink of his tea, which was cooler than the others, before continuing. “Anyway, it’s not as if ya won’t be goin’ home today anyway,” he added. “I mean, you’ll get your nice, soft down bed t’night, an’ you’ll have your wifey with you. Should be a total lack o’ snorin’ then.”

Bombur rolled his eyes as he held the warm mug between his meaty hands. “Yes, an’ you’ll have your hat to share your rock-hard bed with.”

“Has no else to share with,” Bifur snickered.

“Tha’s not true!” Bofur argued. “I could just as easily share a bed with Baylee, but she’s injured…An’ her dad would kill me if ever he found out.”

“As would her brother and her aunt,” Bombur grinned.

Bofur glanced away as he took another drink of his tea. “We’ve only been courtin’ for a handful o’ weeks anyway. That’d just be movin’ far too fast. No. I’m fine with me hat…” He crossed his arms and sank down in his chair slightly. “Hat’s not too tall for the bed anyway…”

~*~*~

Elsewhere in the city, Warren was awake and readying some tea while he listened to his sister-in-law scold him.

“Baylee’s been here barely three days an’ you’re already sending her off again!” Demelza had her hands on her hips as she glared up at him. “After all she’s been through –you just send her right back out again just because you think she won’t be gettin’ the care she needs!”

Rubbing his temple, Warren let out a quiet sigh. “No, Demelza, I know she won’t get the care. It’s getting to be midsummer an’ the city is nigh t’ burstin’ with how many people are visitin’ for the festival or for tradin’. The inn is packed! You an’ the girls are runnin’ around like chickens without heads.” He poured himself a large stein of tea, knowing he would need it. “No; Baylee will be safe in Erebor. She’ll get all the care she needs an’ then, maybe, in a couple o’ weeks, she’ll come walkin’ back home, right as rain.”

She rolled her eyes, unconvinced. “That doesn’t excuse you for sendin’ her away again! Warren Braddock, not only was your daughter kidnapped, but she also had to fight against warg riders! How do you think she feels, knowing that her own father is sending her off elsewhere to heal when she just got home!?”

His cheeks flushed a bit pink as he leaned against the counter. “Demelza, I promise ya –I talked with Baylee for nearly two hours last night about this. She understands why I’m doin’ this. She knows she needs the care-”

“But she doesn’t know Bofur and Bifur’s family! She just met Bofur’s brother what, yesterday morning?”

“I told ya, I talked it over with her-”

“She needs her family, Warren-”

“If the two of you get any louder, you’re going t’ wake our guests.”

Warren and Demelza spun around, finding Richard in the doorway. He had his arms crossed over his chest and, while he normally wasn’t a very intimidating man to behold, he had a very stern and disapproving look on his features. Lowering his arms to his sides, he walked over to his wife and gently pushed her down onto a stool. The same thing he did to Warren before he moved to stand between them.

“We all agree that it’s not fair that Baylee has to be sent away in order to heal,” he began, “but we also need to understand that in order for her to heal, she needs constant care. Warren’s right; this is our busiest time of the year an’ it’ll only get busier without her help an’ with Will havin’ a wee one on the way.”

He turned to his wife. “Demelza, thanks t’ your side of the family, Baylee’s got herself a stubborn streak a league wide. If no one checks on her, you know as well as I know that she’ll be up an’ tryin’ to walk around all on her own when she shouldn’t be.”

Turning to Warren, he watched as the bigger man shirked back slightly. “An’ you, Warren…We have friends in town she could have stayed with. To send her off to the Erebor with a family of dwarves she hardly knows can seem a bit cruel t’ those who don’t know any better.

“Regardless,” he sighed, “the two o’ you need to stop the yellin’ –you could wake our customers an’ lose us some business.” Rubbing his temple, he leaned against the counter. “Also, the decision has already been made an’ Bombur has assured us tha’ we can visit any time we’d like; it’s only an hour trip anyway. An’ that’s by foot.”

Warren didn’t look at him as he took a drink from his stein. “I didn’t think anyone would want t’ be burdened with Baylee…especially since she’s got herself a stubborn streak.”

Demelza crossed her arms and her legs. “You’re just lucky that Lovisa is goin’ with her. At least there’ll be one familiar face around t’ take care of her.”

“Bifur is familiar!”

“Not as familiar as Lovisa,” she huffed. “I’m sorry, Warren, but I’m just not as trusting as you are about dwarvish folk. Especially ones from Thorin’s Company!” She glanced around, as if making sure no one else were around. “Don’t you remember how it was that lot who brought Smaug down upon Lake Town? How they caused a war because they wouldn’t give us the wergild for our burnt homes?!”

Richard felt another shouting match about to surface, so he threw his hands out, silencing Warren before he had the chance to speak. “The dwarves that frequent this inn and have become friends with our family may be the same dwarves who were in Thorin’s Company, but I think everyone can see tha’ they’re not the ones who had gotten the gold sickness. They clearly care ‘bout the folk o’ Dale, and they’re starting to care for our family. Why else would they have risked their lives t’ help save Baylee?”

“Oh, could it be because Ori was taken?” came Demelza’s sarcastic reply. “Or maybe because they thought there would be a handsome reward-”

Warren slammed his stein down on the counter and stood up. “You heard ‘em full well tha’ day when Lovisa an’ Richard brought us the news!” he snapped. “They were just as worried ‘bout Baylee as they were ‘bout Ori!”

“Shh!” Richard hissed. “Both of you stop arguing and just agree on the fact that Baylee is goin’ t’ come back home in some weeks an’ she’ll be right as rain again! This fight is inane an’ is only going to create unneeded havoc in the inn. Not t’ mention, you’re both as stubborn as an ass, so there’s no real point in tryin’ to make the other listen!”

It was then that Adela came in, yawning and rubbing the sleep-sand from her eye. “Why is everyone in here?” she asked, covering her mouth as she yawned again. “Is somethin’ happening?”

“Nothing’s happening, dear,” Richard told her. “Demelza an’ Warren were just…having a little disagreement about something.” He glanced between the two, his brow raised. “Nothing to worry about, I assure you.”

She gave him a small, though unconvinced, smile and nodded. “Alright…though, ah, if ya three don’t mind, I need t’ get started on the breads for the day an’ Warren’s in my spot.”

Warren stood, using the hem of his shirt to wipe up some of the tea that had slopped out of his mug. “Here ya go, lass,” he told her. “I need t’ go ready the horses an’ cart anyway.” He threw Demelza a small look before taking a long drink of tea and headed outside.

 

Baylee was sitting up in bed, working on finishing a bowl of porridge when there was a knock on the door. She called out for whoever it was to enter, not really caring that she had yet to brush her hair and that it was sticking up all over or that she had dribbled a bit of porridge on her nightshirt. So when she heard a somewhat masculine chuckle, she glanced up in panic, thinking Bofur had just come in.

It was just Lovisa.

‘Did I scare you?’ she signed.

“Not really scared,” replied Baylee as she turned back to her breakfast, “just startled. Thought ya may have been one o’ the lads at first.”

Lovisa’s brow rose. ‘Whiskers aren’t nearly that long…’ she ‘sarcastically’ signed.

“I know, I know. I just wasn’t payin’ much attention, so I misheard you at first.” She scrapped the last bit of porridge from the bowl before eating it. “I’m sorry.”

‘Are forgiven. Must have been starving! Eating like wild boar.’ She took the empty bowl and spoon from her and set them aside before pulling back the covers of the bed. Handing Baylee her hairbrush, she went to the foot of the bed and opened her trunk. ‘Would be good time to have dresses, not trousers,’ she joked.

Baylee nodded in agreement. “But dresses can be a bit o’ a hassle in this sort o’ environment. ‘Specially long ones.” She winced as the brush caught on a particularly ratted knot in her hair. “So trousers it is.”

‘Not this time.’ Lovisa pulled out a simple, yellow dress from the depths of Baylee’s trunk. It was quite worn, bearing a few stains around the hem and a patch here and there, but it was still a vibrant shade of yellow. ‘Is easier for you to wear dresses for time being,’ she explained to the human. ‘You can wear trousers when you’re healed.’

“I don’t mind the dresses –just the fact that I can’t stand up and twirl in them,” she chuckled. With some difficulty, the two of them were able to get Baylee switched out of her nightgown and into the dress, though there was a small curse of pain or two as Baylee accidentally elbowed her wound.

‘There.’ Lovisa tossed a handful of braids over her shoulder; she had yet to undo Bifur’s hard work and was not planning on unbraiding her hair for some days. ‘Now just need to find your shoes…’

“Under the bed,” Baylee told her. “I don’t get stockings or hose?”

The half-dwarf cocked her brow as she crouched down. ‘Think you have elbowed self enough for one day.’

Baylee felt her cheeks grow pink and glanced away. “You have a point there…” She lightly rubbed her hip, just thought of elbowing it again bringing about an ache. “Do you know when we’ll be leaving for Erebor?”

‘Soon. Within two hours. Need to get your father to carry you out so you can say goodbyes. And maybe get you more breakfast.’

“I am still a bit hungry…” she murmured.

Lovisa grabbed the empty bowl and Baylee’s nearly-empty tea mug. ‘What want?’

“Bacon? Or some eggs…”

Lovisa quietly chuckled and shook her head. ‘Will surprise you.’

“That works.”

Lovisa smiled and left the room. As she walked down the hallway, she looked up in time to see Will entering the private quarters. He covered his mouth as he yawned, his other hand rubbing a towel over his damp hair. Glancing up, he was almost startled by the sight of Lovisa coming towards him.

“How’s she doing?” he asked.

‘Fine. Hungry still.’

His brow rose. “Really? I brought her a bowl of porridge and two biscuits for breakfast!”

‘She is getting appetite!’ Lovisa happily clapped her hands together. ‘This good! Maybe she will start eating normal portions now.’

“That’s hoping for a bit too much,” Will chuckled. “She’s still Baylee, after all. Her stomach is probably only the size of my fist.”

‘Not your fist. Your fist big. More like size of my fist,’ Lovisa teased.

He shrugged. “You know what I mean,” he grinned. Stepping aside, he let Lovisa and her empty dishes walk past him.

When she came into the kitchen, she found Demelza and Galiene quietly talking to one another. The two women had their heads close to each other as they spoke in hushed tones; Adela was too busy kneading bread to notice their secrecy. Raising her brow, Lovisa started towards them, as they had the bacon and eggs.

“Isn’t there anyone in town who could take care o’ her?” Demelza quietly asked.

“Oh, I’m sure there is. Especially since Baylee’s wee bit o’ a heroine now,” replied Galiene. “I’ve heard word, though, that bein’ a heroine has made her quite the desirable bachelorette now.”

Demelza seemed to perk at that. “Is that so?” Galiene nodded. “Well, that’s good! The lads will be linin’ up at the door t’ court her at this rate.”

Galiene chuckled. “We’ll see about that. After all, they’ll have t’ go through Warren an’ Will t’ even get the chance t’ ask Baylee if she’d like t’ court ‘em.”

“That may be so, but we both know Warren’s been grumblin’ about Baylee not having herself a man yet.” She sighed, flipping an egg over. “Now that Will is all but engaged, he’s only got to fret over her…”

“He’s always fretted over Baylee!” Galiene chuckled. “And with good reason –she’s his little girl.”

“A little girl who seems to find herself in big trouble sometimes,” sighed Demelza. “I swear, Will’s gotten into less trouble than that lass…”

Galiene gave her a small look. “Now ya know as well as I that Baylee’s never gone seekin’ out trouble –it’s always other people gettin’ her in trouble. I’m just glad that she’s able t’ get out of –Oh! Lovisa, love, ya gave me a fright!”

Lovisa smiled apologetically, giving them a small gesture of her regret. ‘Baylee like eggs, bacon,’ she signed to them. ‘Please.’

Brows furrowing, Galiene put a hand on her hip. “Baylee’s already eaten breakfast. I made it for her meself!”

She shrugged. ‘Is still hungry.’

“Well, that’s an improvement at least! I’ll get her some eggs goin’ soon as these one finish. Demelza, you get started on some bacon.” Turning back to the pan, she lightly prodded one of the eggs, seeing if it was ready.

Lovisa cocked her brow and went to lean against the counter as she waited for Baylee’s food. ‘Funny that everyone is so up in a tizzy about Baylee needing to get married…’ she thought. ‘The poor thing has enough on her plate; can’t she deal with her current problems before she has to deal with a marriage?’ Lightly shaking her head, she let out a quiet sigh and closed her eyes for a moment.

‘But she’s not the only one with lad troubles…Bifur has made it quite obvious to me that he fancies me –and I fancy him quite a bit, too. Though, sometimes it seems like Nori may also fancy me. Or maybe I’m reading too much into his needing a babysitter or child-rearing advice…?’

Her eyes snapped open as she heard footsteps approaching. Glancing up, she saw Demelza coming towards her with a plate of eggs and bacon. “Here you go, love,” she told her. “It’s probably more than what she wanted, but you can always nibble what’s left.”

Lovisa hoarsely chuckled and signed her thanks before taking the plate and walking off.

 

~*~*~

 

It was not much longer before Lovisa and Baylee found themselves leaving Dale by way of the northern gate. Riding alongside the cart were Bofur, Bifur, Bombur, Nori, and Dori. Zori was currently in the cart, sitting atop Baylee’s stomach as she played with him and made silly faces at him. He giggled as she crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue, his little hands trying to reach forward to grab her tongue.

“Careful, lass,” Nori lightly warned, “once he sees a tongue, he’ll try t’ grab for it an’ if he gets it, he doesn’t let go. An’ he’s got a right strong grip.”

“I’ll be careful,” Baylee smiled. She slowly moved her index finger towards Zori’s nose and it was her turn to giggle as he went cross-eyed while watching it.

Bombur watched the two of them, amused. “I think you’d get along quite well with my youngest children,” he chuckled. “That is, when you’re healed up.”

“She’s good with children; that’s for sure,” Nori added. “Been a big help with Zori, she has.”

Baylee’s cheeks turned a little pink. “Lovisa’s been more help,” she told him. “She’s actually willing t’ change diapers an’ deal with their spittle.” She grinned cheekily at Lovisa, who had shifted on the seat of the cart to look down at her. “It’s true, though, an’ you know it.”

Lovisa rolled her eyes, though there was a smile on her lips. ‘Just wait until have children of own,’ she signed. ‘Will have no choice but to change diapers then!’

“If I can handle it, lass,” Nori assured her, “you can as well.”

Scrunching her nose up, Baylee frowned. That earned a small chuckle from the dwarves. “There’ll be a while before I have to worry about that sort of thing,” she murmured.

“That may be true, but once tha’ niece or nephew o’ yours is born, you’ll have t’ learn,” Bofur teased. “After all, Will an’ Adela are more ‘n likely goin’ t’ need a night or two off t’ recuperate from parenthood. Bombur an’ Gerdi did. Then again, less than a year later, Gerdi popped out another one…Doubt Will an’ Adela will be doin’ that, though. Humans don’t-”

“Bofur, that’s enough,” Bombur and Dori chorused, their voices bearing no amusement.

A cheeky, though innocent, smile came to his lips. “Sorry, lads. Guess I started ramblin’ again.”

“You do it quite often,” Bombur muttered under his breath. He thought his brother couldn’t hear him, but he was wrong.

Bofur frowned slightly. “Aye, I know I have a tendency t’ ramble, but it’s not my fault. When I worked in the mines, the others didn’t talk much an’ just let me keep talkin’ so we had somethin’ t’ listen to besides the sound o’ mattocks an’ pickaxes all day an’ night.”

Bombur managed to roll his eyes without his brother seeing. “It’s not the talking I mind, brother –it’s your…unpolished humor. You needn’t mention such matters, especially when there are womenfolk about!”

“Oh, ya don’t have t’ worry about us womenfolk,” Baylee grinned. “Lovisa an’ I have heard far worse from raucous patrons. Who would have thought that soldiers had such a crude vocabulary?” She lightly shook her head, though chuckled. “But aye, no –we don’t mind his talk.”

Nori suddenly smirked. “An’ if I recall correctly, on the way back t’ Dale, you were joining in with such ‘uncouth’ banter.”

Lovisa spun around, ignoring the pain that flared up in her ribs. Baylee did her best to look innocent as the half-dwarf gave her quite the scolding glare. ‘Have taught you better!’ she signed, her white brows knitted together. ‘Are not common wench!’

Baylee shrunk down. “If it’s any consolation, I was half asleep and under the effects o’ that strange medicine tha’ took away my pain!”

The look Lovisa gave her clearly showed that she didn’t believe her.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~

Ori was enjoying his mid-afternoon meal in the common room of the Tankard. He was rather pleased by the quiet that surrounded him; for the first time in weeks, he didn’t have to listen to his brothers’ arguing. With a soft, content sigh, he took a drink of his ale and looked around only to find Dwalin coming towards him with a few sheets of paper in hand.

“Ori, how d’yeh reckon these look?” He set the paper down on the table, spreading them out so Ori could see each of them. The younger dwarf was more than a little surprised to find geometric designs sprawled across the four sheets.

“You drew these?” he asked, blinking.

“Aye, who else?” Dwalin frowned, almost as if he were offended.

“These are beautiful,” Ori told him. One of the designs was that of a spear with flowers on either side. Another took up nearly the whole sheet; it had two thick bands and between them, amongst the interlacing knot work, were the dwarvish runes for strength and protection. “What are they for?”

“Designs,” Dwalin told him, his chest unconsciously puffing out.

Ori cocked his brow and glanced up at him. “Designs for what?”

Dwalin grinned. “Tattoos.” He grabbed the bottommost piece of paper and showed it to Ori. “This one is yers, laddie.” The sheet had two bands of blood-red. Between them, at two-inch intervals, were warg heads.

Ori looked up at him, confused. “I get one?”

“O’ course yeh do!” Dwalin laughed. He pulled out a stool and sat down. “After all yeh an’ Baylee went through, it’d be a shame t’ not give yeh one.” He plucked up the one he had drawn for Baylee and looked it over. “I figured a spear would work for her; we agreed on somethin’ a lil’ bit more hidden than our tattoos, so I chose a back piece.”

Nodding in understanding, Ori took another drink of his ale. “Where would the spearhead go?”

“Back o’ her neck. When her hair grows out, it should be hidden nicely, but if she’s got her hair up an’ a dwarrow sees it, they’ll known she’s a true warrior.” He held up his hand, waving down Wenna.

“What’ll it be, Mr. Dwalin?” she asked, holding her tray in front of her. “An ale and some stew?”

He thought for a moment. “Actually, an ale, some fish, an’ a steak if’n yeh please, lass,” he asked her kindly.

She nodded in understanding. “An’ what about you, Mr. Ori? Do you need anythin’ else?”

Holding up his bowl, he gave her a small smile. “More stew, please.”

A small laugh came from Wenna’s lips as she took the bowl from him. “That’ll be your third bowl!” she lightly teased. “Would ya like some more biscuits with it as well?”

He shook his head. “No thank you, but if there are any seed cakes left, I’d quite like two, please.”

“Alright, then. I should have both orders out for ya two soon enough,” she smiled. With Ori’s bowl and her tray in hand, she walked off towards the kitchens.

“So where would this go?” Ori asked, trying to find the placement of the sketch for his tattoo. “My arm?”

Dwalin shook his head before lightly patting his knee. “Yer thigh.” A cheeky grin came to his lips. “An’, o’ course, I’ll be the one doin’ it.”

Ori’s cheeks pinked and he frowned slightly as he looked over the drawing again. “Isn’t this a bit…small for my thigh?”

The grin on Dwalin’s lips widened as he suddenly spoke in a quiet tone, “Ah, lad, I’ve seen yer bare thighs enough times t’ know the circumference o’ ‘em by heart.”

His cheeks deepened in color and Ori lightly smacked Dwalin across the shoulder, earning a laugh from the older dwarf. “You cad!” he mumbled, though a smile did tug at the corners of his lips.

Wenna returned just a few moments later, her tray laden with food and drink. She set a mug and three plates in front of Dwalin while Ori’s bowl was returned to him. “Here ya go. If ya need anythin’ else, just give a holler.” She walked off, moving to serve some patrons who had just come in.

“So, I take it you’ve spoken with Baylee and Will about the tattoos?” Ori asked after they had eaten in silence for a few minutes.

Nodding, Dwalin shoved a large piece of fish into his mouth. “Mm…perfectly roasted,” he murmured. He chewed and swallowed before answering Ori. “Aye, I have. Will’s a bit hesitant, but Baylee’s all for it. It’s funny…I would have thought tha’ it’d be the other way ‘round.” He shoved another piece of fish into his mouth before starting to carve up his steak.

“I’ve noticed that, actually,” Ori mused. “Baylee’s a bit more outgoing than Will.” He fished out a large chunk of chicken from his stew with his spoon and happily ate it. “By the way, have you told Dori your plan on givin’ me a tattoo?”

Dwalin cocked his brow. “Yeh think I’d do a stupid thing like tha’?” he mused. “He won’t find out until the next adventure we’re forced t’ go on, Mahal willin’…” He shook his head. “An’ if he finds out before tha’, I’m sorry, Ori, but I’ll be runnin’ away. Dori’s been blessed with a frightenin’ amount o’ strength an’ I don’t want t’ be on the recievin’ end o’ his bolas.”

Ori snorted into his stew. “Some great warrior you are!” he laughed. “Terrified o’ my older brother…”

“Yer older brother can crack a stone wall with a single kick!” Dwalin frowned. “O’ course I’ll run away from him!” He shoved a large bite of steak into his mouth, still grumbling about Dori and his strength. He didn’t notice as Ori reached over and stabbed his knife into one of the smaller pieces of cow and stole it. “Much less afraid o’ Nori. What’ll he do, pick my pockets until I can’t buy any food?”

“Nori’s gotten better about the thieving,” Ori murmured. “After all, he can’t risk goin’ to jail now that he’s got Zori.”

Nodding, Dwalin brushed some meat-crumbs from his beard. “That is true. Yeh know, I’m actually proud o’ him about that.”

“About Zori?”

He nodded again as he picked a few bones out of his fish. He used one of the larger bones to pick his teeth. “I wouldn’t have thought him the type t’ save an infant, let alone raise it. ‘Specially a half-elf infant.”

Ori started to cough as a bit of his stew went down the wrong pipe. Frowning, Dwalin patted him on the back. It took some minutes, but he finally started to calm down enough to breath.

“Yeh alright, lad?”

“How did you know about Zori?” he wheezed.

Dwalin’s brow rose, a skeptical expression on his features. “Ori…Zori’s got pointed ears an’ he’s still rather slim for an infant, despite all the food he gets.” He leaned back on the stool and snatched up a seed cake. “O’ course he’s got elf blood in him. I take it, then, that Nori knows as well?” Ori nodded. “Well, then, he must be right upset ‘bout that. But good o’ him for still not givin’ Zori up.” He ate half of the seed cake in one bite, much to Ori’s chagrin.

“I was going to eat that, you know.”

“I jus’ wanted a wee bite,” Dwalin innocently told him. As he spoke, his sprayed his lover with small, damp crumbs.

Ori’s nose scrunched up as he wiped the crumbs out of his beard and off his shoulder. “Your ‘wee bite’ devoured more than half of the cake.”

Leaning over, Dwalin left more crumbs on Ori’s cheek as he kissed it. “Yeh know I’ll make it up t’ yeh later,” he cheekily told him. “I’ll buy yeh some sweets from town or somethin’.”

“I’ll hold you to that, you big oaf,” Ori murmured, yet again wiping the crumbs from his face.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Erebor was enormous.

Having only ever seen the mountain from afar, Baylee would have never thought that, inside its stone walls, the reclaimed city of the dwarves would be so large. Dwarves were short, stocky folk and she had expected to see low-hanging ceilings and wide pillars to match. She couldn’t have possibly guessed that the ceilings of Erebor’s main streets were hundreds of feet tall with large, ornate lanterns and carved windows to light the way.

Lovisa, too, was taken aback by the sheer enormity of the place. As they passed through the market, she was greeted by the sight of seemingly thousands of colorful cloths strung over the hundreds of vendors trying to sell their goods. Dwarves called out deals on their wares, speaking primarily in Khuzdul, but a few called out their specials in Westron. At one point, she unconsciously locked gazes with a particularly handsome gem dealer. Giving her a wink, he held up a highly expensive ruby necklace while calling out, ‘Gorgeous gems for a gorgeous woman!’, bringing a dark blush to her cheeks.

Bifur steered his pony a bit closer to the cart, a frown on his features.

Halfway through the market, Nori and Dori excused themselves from the group and led their ponies off down a side street. Before they had gone much farther, Baylee watched as the two of them dismounted in the distance and, after paying a smaller dwarf to watch their ponies, disappeared into a building.

“Is that their home?” Baylee asked.

Bofur glanced over his shoulder. “Nah. That’s their trading establishment,” he told her. “Ori, Nori, an’ Dori run a sort of fine wine an’ fine tea trading company. They get their wares from all over the world! Wines from the Shire, Belfalas, and Felaya an’ teas from Szrech-nîl in the Eastlands, Mardruak in the south, an’ even some from Umbar.”

“Don’t forget their rarest of items,” Bombur added, a small grin coming to his lips. “The ice-wines of Järvamaa.”

The three males suddenly sighed in unison, dreamy looks coming to their features.

‘What ice wine?’ Lovisa signed, frowning in confusion. ‘Never heard of.’

“Ice wine is delicious, that’s what,” Bofur, unhelpfully, told her.

Bombur shook his head. “It’s a rare wine made only every couple of decades in the Frozen Realm,” he explained. “It’s made when the winter has been mild enough t’ allow the ice to defrost durin’ the spring and summer. The berries they use are pure white and have the most fruity of flavors. The wines an’ whiskeys they brew are highly sought after by nobility an’ rich folk.” He let out a small sigh. “Dori gave Gerdi and me a bottle when our first daughter was born. Try as we might, it was gone within the week.”

‘Sound interesting,’ Lovisa replied. ‘Maybe someday, will get to try.’

“Ya might if ya butter Dori up well enough,” Bofur grinned. “Baylee may get one jus’ because she kept Ori safe!”

Baylee laughed. “Oh, that I highly doubt. I may have kept his brother safe, but that’s not nearly enough t’ warrant the gift o’ some precious wine.”

“Dori is a bit of an oddball,” Bombur shrugged, “he may. If anything, though, he’ll end up givin’ you some delicious tea.”

“And tour of Erebor,” Bifur added. For the most part, he had been silent on the trip, letting his cousins do most of the talking. “May get from me, Bofur though.”

Baylee gave him a small smile. “It’ll be awhile before I can get a tour of anywhere but a bedroom.”

For a few minutes, Bifur was quiet as he tried to formulate his answer in his mind. “Will heal,” he finally spoke. “Have good caretakers. Will get good medicine. Dwarrows make potent dîzak.” He frowned as the last word came out in Khuzdul, but shrugged it off. Bofur patted him on the back.

“You’re doin’ quite good,” he chirped. “Just a few months ago, ya couldn’t speak a lick o’ Westron an’ now you’re havin’ regular conversations! Wait ‘til Gerdi an’ the wee badgers hear ya!”

Lovisa cocked a brow. ‘Badgers?’

“It’s what they call my children,” Bombur explained. “I haven’t the faintest idea why…”

“Attack like badger,” Bifur told him. “Pounce. Not let go.”

Bofur grinned. “An’ they try t’ steal me hat every time I see ‘em.”

Baylee quietly giggled. “I wasn’t aware badgers wore hats.”

“O’ course they do,” he chuckled. “I once saw a badger who wore a great yellow hat. Even had a bright, green feather stickin’ out o’ it.” He gave her a small wink as he spoke.

Lovisa chuckled. ‘Sound like quite the find,’ she signed.

Bofur nodded in agreement. “Oh, it was. Ah –home sweet home!”

Having left the market some time ago, they now found themselves staring at what appeared to be an unassuming stone wall with a highly decorated wooden door set into it. Lovisa brought the cart to a stop, her head tilting to the side.

‘This your home?’ she asked.

Bifur nodded. “Is home! Two home in one.” He pointed to the left side of the door. “Bombur’s home.” And then to the right. “Our home.”

“Why is it split in two?” Baylee asked, watching as the males dismounted their ponies. Lovisa hopped down from the cart only to wince, her ribs protesting.

Bofur walked over and carefully lifted Baylee out of the cart. “Because dwarves don’t have homes like humans or elves; we’ve got mansions that are shared betwixt our families,” he explained. He kissed her cheek when Lovisa wasn’t looking. “Bombur an’ Gerdi have the majority o’ the mansion because o’ their eight children while Bifur an’ me, bachelors, get a couple o’ rooms on northern side.”

‘How many rooms?’ Lovisa questioned. She easily lifted a heavy, wooden chest out of the cart, Bombur doing the same with a second, smaller trunk.

“In total? Hmm…About fifty,” Bombur answered. “But that includes two kitchens, a few bathing rooms, and some suites that have multiple rooms o’ their own as well as a library and a smithy.”

Baylee blinked, trying to comprehend the sheer amount of space that was. The Full Tankard only had twenty rooms in total and it was a rather large inn. To think that, behind a stone wall, fifty rooms were hidden was an almost impossible thing for her.

‘Then again,’ she thought, ‘dwarves are known for their ability to make things hidden. I don’t doubt that they could have an entire castle hidden down here.’

“Will ya get the door, love?” Bofur asked as he neared the door. “I’d get it, but…well, me hands are full.” His cheeky grin appeared on his lips, earning a small smile from Baylee. As she tugged on the latch and opened the door, he stepped inside a bright lit corridor. The warm smell of cooking soups and baking breads instantly filled their noses. “Ahh…That’d be Gerdi’s cookin’, that would,” he smiled. “Galiene’s a good cook, but wait until you’ve tasted Gerdi’s. Her whole family is known for their skills in cookin’; in fact, her great-grandmother was the head chef for King Thror before Smaug came here!” He glanced over his shoulder, seeing Lovisa following him. “Alright there, Lovisa?”

She nodded to him, unable to sign thanks to the trunk on her shoulder.

“Good. It’s just a short ways t’ your rooms, I promise!” He was careful to not bump Baylee’s legs or head against the wall as he walked up a short flight of stairs. Once he was at the landing, he managed to maneuver his hold on Baylee so that he held her with one arm while the other fished a key from his pockets. He used this to unlock and open the door before carrying her in. “Sorry for the darkness; should o’ had Bifur ride ahead…Oh well!” Despite what he said, the area was moderately lit thanks to a window in an adjacent room.

Turning left into a corridor, he walked past two doors before coming to a halt. “Right, this’ll be Baylee’s room,” he told the others. Opening the door, he brought them into a room that had its bed carved into the wall. Above the bed was a window that overlooked the northern roots of the Lonely Mountain and the farmlands that had sprung up in the distance. Setting Baylee on the bed, he kissed her temple. “Thought ya might want a wee bit o’ a view.”

She smiled and looked out of the window. “An’ what a nice view it is,” she chuckled. “Thank you.” Her hand started to reach up to pull him down for a kiss, but the loud ‘thunk’ of Lovisa setting her trunk down reminded her that they weren’t alone.

Lovisa looked up at the two of them, her brow cocked. ‘Don’t mind,’ she signed to them. ‘Can kiss if want.’

Baylee’s cheeks flushed a deep shade of red while Bofur tried to innocently look away. “I haven’t the slightest idea ‘bout what you’re talk-” started Baylee.

‘Father is oblivious,’ Lovisa told her, ‘but I am not.’ She looked over her shoulder as Bombur poked his head in.

“Bofur, what room will Lady Lovisa be stayin’ in?” he asked.

“One right next door,” Bofur answered, his tone quiet and a bit shy sounding. He glanced up as Lovisa suddenly patted him on the back.

‘Don’t worry,’ she signed to him, a mischievous grin on her lips, ‘approve of you. It Warren you worry about!’ Still wearing the smile, she moved to go inspect her room.

Bofur’s face paled as he watched her go. “Baylee…” he murmured.

She patted his arm. “Don’t worry. Lovisa’s harder t’ impress than my papa,” she assured him. “After all, she’s a woman an’ all but my second mum.”

“Ya sure? Because I’m not so convinced right now, love. There was somethin’ ‘bout the look she gave me tha’ said ‘Warren will rip ya t’ shreds an’ then feeds ya t’ the hogs so no one will ever find out’.”

At that, Baylee couldn’t help but burst out laughing. “Papa won’t rip ya t’ shreds! If anything, he’ll scold me for not havin’ told him any sooner. Aye, he may not be entirely fond o’ the idea o’ me with a dwarf right now but he’ll warm up to it.”

Rubbing the back of his neck, Bofur still looked a little unsure. “If’n ya say so.” His eyes widened as Baylee lightly tugged him down and kissed him on the lips.

“Ûk! Na’adad Bofur namim zhin!”

Bofur spun around as the small voice echoed through the mostly-empty room. Standing in the doorway, he found Buruz and Grid peeking into the room, both wearing matching expressions of disgust. Upon seeing Baylee, however, their eye widened and they gasped.

“Na’ada Bofur namim zhinûn!” Grid gaped. “Buruz! Tashfat, aglâb’amad!”

The two dwarrowlings moved to run away from the door, but Bofur raced towards them and, grinning, caught up Grid and lightly tossed her in the air. “Aye! Go on, Buruz, an’ tell your mother we’ve got guests!” He looked at his niece, who was giggling as he turned her upside down in the air, her mass of curls swaying back and forth. “An’ you, ya wee badger…” He blew a raspberry against her cheek, earning another round of giggles from the girl. “It’s not polite t’ speak Khuzdul around those who can’t!”

“Na’ada Bofur!” she squealed, squirming in his grip. “Zil nîd!” She kicked her legs lightly, still upside down in the air.

“Wha’ was that, my wee badger?”

“Zil nîd!” she laughed.

“Bofur, are you torturing my little ones again?” Bombur stood in the hallway, an endearing smile on his chubby face as he watched his brother and daughter.

Bofur shrugged. “Just Grid,” he mused. He turned around, facing Baylee. “Baylee, I’d like ya t’ meet my eldest niece, Grid. Grid, this is Miss Baylee an’ she’ll be a guest here for a while.”

The girl looked at Baylee and then back at her uncle. “Zu namimdhi. Zu yâsith, Na’adad Bofur?”

Baylee could tell by Bofur’s darkening cheeks and Bombur’s sudden chuckling that Grid had asked something embarrassing.

“No, no she’s not, Grid,” Bombur told her. He came into the room and ‘rescued’ her from her uncle. “Miss Baylee is a good friend of your uncle and Cousin Bifur’s. So is Miss Lovisa, but you’ve yet to meet her.” He lightly poked her nose. “And your Uncle Bofur was serious when he said that it’s rude to speak Khuzdul around those who cannot understand it.”

A mischievously defiant grin came to Grid’s lips as she looked between the three adults. ‘Not speak if use Iglishmêk!’ she signed. ‘Am not rude now!’

Baylee chuckled. ‘Understand Iglishmêk,’ she signed in return. ‘No, not rude.”

Grid’s eyes shot wide open and her jaw fell slack. Even Bombur seemed a bit taken aback, but he quickly recovered upon remembering that Lovisa could only use the sign language. ‘Know Iglishmêk!?’ Grid hurriedly signed.

‘Yes! Learned when I was your age.’

Crawling atop Bombur’s shoulder, Grid whispered in her father’s ear. Bombur laughed heartily. “No, my dear, it’s not against the rules for humans to know how to use Iglishmêk,” he assured her. He set her on the floor and he and Bofur watched as she tentatively walked towards Baylee.

“How learn?” she shyly asked when she was five steps away.

“My nurse taught me,” Baylee replied. “She can’t talk, so she uses Iglishmêk.”

Grid curiously tilted her head to the side. “How she learn?”

Baylee chuckled; she had seen Lovisa step into the room a few minutes prior. “Well, she’s behind you. Why don’t you ask her?”

Grid’s eyes widened again and she turned around. Looking up, she saw Lovisa’s smiling face and her cheeks got a bit pink. “…You’re really pretty…” she murmured.

‘Thank you,’ Lovisa signed, still smiling. ‘Are really pretty too! Love your hair.’

A shy giggle left Grid’s mouth and she grabbed two handfuls of her hair, using it as a cover to hide behind. “Tank you. Have pretty hair, too.”

Bombur smiled. “Well, Grid seems to like them,” he told Bofur. “Now to see how the rest-”

“Bombur! Bofur! Kuf hûzik aglâb mâ agrîf anakâlh?” a female voice boomed from down the hall. “Mâ izirmish ba—Oh! Humans!” Gerdi had come into the room, Bifur following in on her heels. “Oh my, I’m sorry for my yellin’; I wasn’t-”

Bofur patted her on the back. “It’s alright, Gerdi,” he chuckled. “It’s sort o’ my fault. I offered up our home t’ a couple o’ good friends o’ ours who needed some time to heal from the…adventure we’ve been on an’-” He winced as Gerdi suddenly smacked him upside the head.

“An’ just why didn’t you think t’ come tell us that you an’ Bifur were going to go runnin’ off into the wild, hmm?” she scolded. “We had to find out two months later from a messenger sent by Lord Bard! Three months later, an’ I don’t even get so much as a ‘Hullo, Gerdi! We’re alive and in one piece, nothin’ to worry about!’” She turned towards Baylee and Lovisa, giving them apologetic smiles. “O’ course, I don’t blame either o’ you in the least! Bofur an’ Bifur are always getting themselves into heaps of trouble.”

Bofur frowned, puffing his chest out slightly. “I’ll have ya know tha’ Bifur an’ I were a crucial part t’ the rescuin’ o’ Ori an’ Baylee here,” he told her. He ignored the snickers from some of his older nephews. “Why, without us, there would have been a lot worse injuries in the group!”

Lovisa bit her tongue to keep herself from laughing; Bofur very much resembled an angry pigeon at the moment. ‘Is true,’ she signed. ‘Bofur, Bifur help protect group. Also help keep morale up.’ She gave Gerdi a small smile before managing a small, but stiff, bow. ‘Lovisa, at your service, by the way.’ As she stood back up, she winced and rubbed her ribs.

Gerdi gave the two of them warm looks. “Ah, yes. Bifur was warning me about how the two of you are injured. Oh, where are my manners! Gerdi, at your service!” She gave a quick curtsey before standing upright. She looked Lovisa and Baylee over, taking in the signs of their injuries –both visible and not. A pitying smile appeared on her lips as she saw Baylee’s bandaged hands and scarred face. “Ah, you,” she pointed to her, “must be the innkeeper’s daughter that I’ve heard about.”

Baylee’s cheek turned a bit pink. “Baylee Braddock at your service,” she replied, giving a half bow to the woman.

“These two women are some o’ the finest folk ya can befriend,” Bofur told his sister-in-law, his tone rather matter-of-fact. “Lovisa must have been blessed by Oromë, because she’s a damned skilled tracker an’ hunter. Without her, we would’a never found Baylee an’ Ori.”

Bifur nodded in agreement. “Good warriors,” he added.

Gerdi’s eyes shot open. “Bifur! You-you-!”

He lightly patted her back. “Not now. Have guests! Talk later.” He looked at Lovisa and Baylee. “Want drink? Food? Gerdi good cook.”

“You know…food actually sounds quite good,” Baylee replied.

Lovisa smiled. ‘Would be good,’ she concurred. ‘Need help?’

Shaking his head, he lightly pushed her and Gerdi towards the two chairs near the bed. “No. Stay. Get know Gerdi, get comfy! Bofur will help.” Before any of the females could object, Bifur grabbed Bofur and Bombur by their arms and led them away.

It was then that Grid, standing on tiptoe, poked her head over the back of her mother’s chair. “Are sure not dwarrow?” she asked Baylee.

Gerdi frowned slightly. “Grid, it’s not polite to ask such things,” she lightly scolded.

“It’s alright,” Baylee quietly laughed. “My da’ an’ brother tease me about my height all the time. Sometimes I am mistaken for a dwarf.” She turned to Grid. “So, no, lil’ one, I am not a dwarf. I’m just a tiny human.”

Grid didn’t look entirely convinced. “Need beard, then.”

Lovisa and Baylee cracked up giggling while Gerdi sighed –though, there was a small smile on her lips.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

It was nearing nightfall when the lone rider came out from beneath the eaves of the Old Forest Road. The pony they rode walked on as it had for the last couple hundred miles, its head lightly bobbing and its tail swishing behind it. Up and down low hills it walked, its pace unhindered from the steady trot it had adopted miles ago.

Suddenly, its rider pulled on the reins, bringing it to an unexpected stop atop the tallest hill. The rider lowered their hood, revealing the face of a travel-weary woman. She gazed out across the land with eyes as blue as midnight, scanning it for signs of movement. Then, her sight paused on something in the distance: A single, solitary peak, rising above the land as if it had been placed there by the Valar themselves.

A smile graced her lips and she urged her pony forward.


	28. 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Good news: This chapter is almost 30 pages long.  
> Bad news: You're going to need a tissue or two at the end. I'm sorry :(

Will tugged a string through a metal hoop, tugging on it to bring the front end up a kite almost level with its already-strung tail. Leaning back, he checked to see if it looked alright and, judging it to be fine, he tied it off. He stepped off the stool and tucked it behind the counter before moving to restock some of the shelves with toys.

Bofur came out into the main room, holding a large crate of toy horses. “Lad, do ya remember how many o’ these horses we sold yesterday?” he questioned, setting the box down. He started to line one of the lower shelves with the horses while Will filled the top shelves with the wooden puzzles he had carved during the last two weeks.

“About fifteen,” he replied. “Why do you ask?”

“We’re gettin’ low in our supply,” he answered. “So I’m thinkin’, with how good you’ve gotten with the puzzles, I’ll start havin’ ya carve the animal figures. O’ course, like the puzzles, I don’t expect ya t’ be proficient with it right away; I’ll help ya while ya learn.”

Will rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, I’ll have t’ get myself a proper kit o’ tools,” he told him. “The puzzles were fine for what I’ve got, because they don’t require much detail. But the animals have got a lot o’ small detail that I just can’t do with my large tools.”

Bofur nodded in understanding. “Well, don’t you worry about a thing,” he assured him. “I’m sure you’ll find the proper tools.” There was a hint of amusement to his voice, letting Will know that he had been up to something.

Cocking his brow, Will glanced down at the dwarf. “Aye, I’m sure o’ it too.” He looked over at the window, where there were around a dozen little faces peering in from outside. A group of young boys had their cheeks and noses pressed against the glass as they eyed a small barrel filled with various sizes of wooden swords. A little girl next to them had the largest grin on her face as she stared at one of the rocking horses –or was it the rocking sheep?- bringing about a tender smile came to Will’s lips as he saw them.

A small chuckle left Bofur’s mouth as he saw the look on his face. “Just think lad, you’ll have a wee lad or lass o’ your own in a couple o’ months that you can make toys for!”

Will’s cheeks darkened. “Aye. I still need t’ find a proper ring for Adela. Nothin’ here in Dale seems good enough, though. Then again, what I can afford an’ what’s good enough for her are entirely different things…” He rubbed the back of his neck before crossing the shop and rearranging some of the picture books so that they were in order of height.

“Have ya tried Erebor, lad?”

He shook his head. “No. I’ve only been to your home to visit Baylee.”

“Well, why don’t ya ask Bifur or one o’ my nephews to show you around the market while you’re there tomorrow? There’s lots o’ different jewelry sold there an’ all of them tend t’ be a wee bit cheaper than what you find here, because they’re bein’ sold by the makers, not a secondhand party.”

Will’s brow rose again. “Is that so?”

“Aye! That’s where a lot o’ merchants make their profits,” explained Bofur. “O’ course they have t’ raise the price on things because not only do they have t’ pay the craftsmen for their work, but they have to be able t’ turn a profit themselves. Haven’t ya ever wondered why foreign goods cost so darned much?” He shook his head. “You’ll be able t’ find somethin’ in Erebor for sure, lad. Just have Bifur take you around; he’s friends with a few o’ the ring makers, so he could even get ya a good deal.”

“I may just do that then,” he smiled, “because…Da’ wants the two o’ us married before she gives birth. Apparently he an’ mum had a hard enough time when Baylee an’ I were born…”

Bofur frowned slightly. “What’s tha’ supposed t’ mean?”

“Mum an’ dad weren’t married when we were born,” he chuckled. “Da’ had gone off t’ Rohan to ask for mum’s hand in marriage. Apparently, he didn’t get back until we were two months old an’ there were rumors about da’ having just left her. O’ course, anyone who knew dad smashed those rumors to bits, but still. Dad was right surprised when he came back an’ found us. Surprised, but overjoyed.”

“Huh. Would have never guessed; I mean, you two are such lovely people after all,” Bofur joked. He looked at the window. “Hm. Should we let the wee ones in now or should we let ‘em wait a bit longer?”

Will looked out at all the eager faces. Some of them were pouting at the two males, as if knowing that they were debating whether or not they should open the store. Some were too busy looking at the toys while the rest wore large grins.

“Look at the poor things,” he said, looking at the dwarf. “Let’s let ‘em in.”

Bofur grinned. “Good plan.”

Going over to the window, he turned the sign around so that it read ‘open’. Almost instantly, the children outside burst into small, victorious cries and, as he unlocked and opened the door, they came hurrying in.

 

Later that day found the two of them heading to the Full Tankard for lunch. They were discussing how good their sales had been during the first half of the day and about what toys they were running out of. Not surprisingly, the tug-along animals as well as the rocking critters were still in high demand –Bofur had even received a custom order for a rocking bear.

“At least they didn’t ask for real fur,” Will joked as he pushed open the inn door.

“Oh, aye –that’d be hard t’ put on the thing,” Bofur agreed. “It’ll be hard enough t’ make with a bear’s proportions an’ all. They’re so wide ‘round the middle an’ stocky on the limbs.”

“Sort o’ like a dwarf, wouldn’t you say?” There was a cheeky grin on his face as Bofur looked up at him.

Bofur cracked up. “That’s a good one,” he cackled. He laughter abruptly ceased as he saw Warren sitting across from King Bard. Both had bowls of soup in front of them as they spoke quietly to one another; Warren had an intense look of concentration on his features. “Well, that’s unexpected…”

Will tilted is head. “Wonder why Bard’s here?” he murmured, going behind the bar. “Well, it’s none o’ our business. So, what’ll be? Ale or cider?”

“You know, I think I’ll have a cider,” Bofur told him. “What do you want t’ eat?”

“Hmm…It’s been awhile since I’ve had chicken, so I think I’ll have one o’ those,” he replied. “An’ maybe some fried potatoes.”

Nodding, Bofur headed towards the kitchen doors. “Chicken an’ fried potatoes, Got it. Oh, an’ before I forget…” He fumbled around with something on his belt before tossing it the human, who caught it. “There’s your week’s pay,” he smiled. He disappeared into the kitchen to tell Galiene or Demelza what they wanted.

Will stared at the bag he had caught. It obviously had coin in it -he could hear them clinking against each other-but there was something else within. It was long and thick with strange bumps. Confusion filling him, he picked the bag up with the two mugs of cider and carried them over to a table before he peeked inside to see what it was.

Once he sat down, he untied the bag and dumped its contents onto the tabletop. Gold, silver, and copper coins fell onto the wood with a clatter, which didn’t surprise Will too much. What did surprise him, though, was a roll of burlap. To most people, it would have been an odd thing to find, but to a carpenter like Will, he knew exactly what it was: A set of fine carving tools.

He unfurled the toolkit, his jaw falling slightly slack as he looked over the tools. Pulling out one of the chisels, he could see geometric patterns delicately carved into the handle –dwarven work. The blade was tiny compared to the large, bulky chisels he was used to using for building houses, but as he tested it out on the edge of the table (he would sand the groove out later), he found it to be very sharp. Pulling out another tool, a rasp, he gawked at how fine its teeth were; he was almost certain he wouldn’t need to file whatever he was working on to make it smooth.

“Well, how do ya like it, lad?” Bofur sat down across from him, munching on a biscuit. By the sheepish he wore, he had stolen it without one of the cooks catching him; Will knew, regardless, he would pay for it.

“Are you jokin’?” Will asked, his tone all-too serious. “A week’s pay an’ a fine set o’ woodworking tools!? The tools alone are worth three month’s pay!”

Bofur smiled in a way that let Will know that he didn’t care about the tools as much as him. “Lad, you’re a fine woodworker, a good helper, an’ you’ve become a great friend. Consider it a gift.” He took a drink from his cider, not caring much about the slight bit of foam that was caught in is mustache. “Just make sure ya put ‘em t’ good use, aye? I’m sure you can’ test ‘em on those toys you’ll be makin’.”

The dwarf suddenly let out a yelp as Will came to his side of the table and lifted him up in a big hug.

 

~*~*~

 

Warren rubbed the back of his neck as he sat by himself in the laundry room, his feet dangling over the edge of one of the open-air walls. He stared out at The Lonely Mountain, which dominated his view, and let out a quiet sigh. Tomorrow, he would be traveling to Erebor with Will and Bofur so that they could see Baylee and Lovisa. It would be their first visit since the two females had left and he was hoping that their injuries had healed at least partly.

What he wasn’t entirely looking forward to was the awkward conversation he knew that would have to take place.

He was pulled from his thoughts as the door opened and Will stepped in. “So this is where you’ve been hidin’,” he son said. “I was lookin’ all over for you.”

Managing a small smile, Warren patted Will on the back as he sat down. “Were ya now?”

“Aye. I’m surprised you’re not in your smithy, to be honest.”

“Ah…Today’s not a day for craftin’,” he admitted. “Especially since we’ll be seein’ your sister tomorrow.” He looked at Will, an almost pitying appearing on his features as he saw the scars –both new and old- lining his son’s face and neck. It was hard for him, knowing that Will –and now Baylee- were forced to wear such reminders of battle. “How’s Adela doin’?”

Will nodded lightly. “Better. Uncle gave her some herbs t’ eat with her breakfasts that help t’ ease the nausea.”

“Good,” he smiled. “It’s a shame she’s been gettin’ so sick…Hopefully the herbs will kick in an’ she’ll be able to get her appetite back. Can’t have her losin’ weight when she’s eatin’ for two.”

“Or three.”

Warren gave him a look. “You think she may be with twins?”

He shrugged. “Hard t’ say, da’. Mum an’ Aunt Demelza were twins, Baylee an’ I were twins –what’s t’ say that Adela’s not carryin’ twins?”

“I’m no doctor, but I think twins are more likely if you’re the daughter o’ a twin,” he snickered. “After all, it’s not us lads who carry the babies.”

Will gave his father a look. “You never know. Maybe it’s the curse o’ the family –the males get the women pregnant before marriage and, in retaliation, the women pop out twins?” he snorted. “At least, I hope t’ be married before Adela gives birth.”

“Still wantin’ to do it durin’ the harvest festival then?”

He nodded. “It’s where we first met ten years ago. Why not get marred during it?” He smiled, looking out over the city. “An’ I’m damned glad I met her.”

Warren smiled; he was happy that his son had found someone that loved him as much as Adela did. “I’m glad, too –even if ya didn’t tell me ‘bout her right away.”

A sheepish look came to his face. “Well, she is the daughter o’ your rival…”

At that, Warren frowned. “Not anymore. If’n he kicks her out o’ his home for such a petty reason, he doesn’t deserve her for a daughter. It’s bad enough tha’ he tried to flirt with your mum while he was married…” He shook his head. “He’s a rotten piece o’ meat, he is. I would never kick you or Baylee out because either o’ you were in love.”

“An’ that’s all the more reason why we love ya, da’,” Will grinned. “An’ why Adela is so thankful t’ have you as a father-in-law.” He brushed some loose strands of hair from his face before bringing his knee up to his chest.

Warren smiled. “So how’s your day been?”

“Actually, it’s been pretty nice. Lots o’ customers at the shop today; we sold out o’ a few toys.”

“That’s good!” he grinned. “Guess Bofur’s goin’ t’ have to work extra hard since Bifur’s off in Erebor for a bit.”

Will shook his head. “He’s havin’ me start on actual toys. I’ll be making the stationary wooden animals,” he told his father. “That git even got me a fine set o’ woodworking tools!”

Warren stared at him. “He did what?!” Will nodded only to lurch forward as his father heartily patted him on the back. “Well, congratulations on the promotion, lad!” he laughed.

A shy grin came to Will’s face. “I’m really likin’ it. I still get t’ carve wood, but I don’t have t’ get worn out or deal with my shoulder all o’ the time like I had to when I was workin’ on houses. ‘Course, I’ll still make furniture every now an’ then…”

“I’m glad you’ve found somethin’ you like an’ can keep doin’, lad,” Warren sincerely stated. “For a while, I was worried ‘bout you –you had worked yourself weary from all the rebuildin’ o’ Dale an’ Esgaroth an’ then you took up the job o’ protectin’ the trading caravans…I didn’t think you’d ever find something ya could be content with.”

Will quietly laughed and patted his dad on the back. “Ah, I mostly went with the caravans because I wanted t’ see what Dorwinion was like,” he confessed. “It’s been so long since we’ve gotten t’ see much greenery ‘round here; it just felt so…depressing.”

“Ah, but life’s coming back t’ Dale an’ Erebor,” Warren assured him. “Why, this was one o’ the greenest years we’ve had in my memory! Ol’ Bard confided in me earlier tha’ the output o’ the farms around the city an’ mountain have produced four times as much crop as they did last year! Four times, Will! Can ya imagine how much food we’ll have durin’ the winter? For the first time in nearly five years, we won’t have t’ worry about runnin’ out!”

A large grin spread across his face. “That’s amazing! Is any o’ it going down t’ Lake Town?”

He nodded. “Aye –‘bout a quarter o’ it. They’ve not had as good o’ a crop, so Bard wants t’ make sure that they’ll have enough food.” He leaned back slightly, stretching his arms above his head. “He’s also goin’ t’ save a quarter o’ it for the festival. It’s going to be an enormous festival this year, lad: It’s the anniversary o’ our victory over the goblin an’ warg armies.”

“So is that why he was here earlier? To talk about the crop and festival?”

For a moment, his father was silent. He didn’t look at his son; rather, he slowly scanned the city that lay below them and the mountain that lay before the city. “Partly,” he finally admitted. “He told me that we’ll have t’ have the main part o’ the celebration out in the field.”

Will narrowed his eyes in suspicion. “Partly?” he repeated. “Why else was he here? Was he tryin’ t’ make you his advisor again?”

He shook his head. “No, nothin’ like that…He just…Well…” He rubbed the back of his neck again.

Will could tell by his stumbling over words that he was confused about the situation. Setting his hand on his father’s shoulder, he gave him a small smile of reassurance. “Ya can tell me, dad.”

“I know, lad,” Will quietly laughed. “It’s just…an odd situation he put me in.” He scratched the back of his neck yet again. “Bard came t’ ask if he could…court your sister.”

Will’s jaw fell slack and he stared at his father in total disbelief. “Hvað í nafni Manwë!?” he whispered, using the native tongue of Lake Town.

Warren slowly nodded. “Exact words I used,” he mumbled.

Regaining his composure, Will rubbed his face. “What did ya tell him?”

He let out a heavy sigh and slumped forward, his elbows resting on his knees. “I consented.”

His brows furrowed slightly; he knew this would pose a potential problem. Not only was Baylee courting Bofur, but Will knew that, for many years, his older sister had harbored feelings for him. She had almost won him, too, but she had spoken too late. What didn’t help, either, was that Bard had been one of the foremost proponents against Thorin and his company venturing to Erebor and still harbored a small grudge against them.

Bard, however, was a good man. He didn’t let this grudge affect any of his judgments or interactions with the remaining members of the company; in fact, Will remembered him joking with Bofur and Dwalin on the way back to Dale. He also had a kindness few men of power could be said to have, which was why Baylee had fallen for him in the first place. She even still admitted that Bard would be the most handsome man in the city if only he smiled more…

“Will? Are ya alright?”

Blinking, Will looked at his father as he was pulled out of his thoughts. “Pardon?”

“Are you alright, lad? Ya went all quiet for a few minutes there…” Warren wore a concerned frown as he looked his son over. “An’ ya look a bit paler.”

He managed a half-smile. “I’m just a bit surprised is all,” he admitted. “I mean…Bard, our king, fancies Baylee…”

“Well…he admitted he would have taken her as his wife earlier, but she didn’t seem interested. It was after he proposed t’ Gelvira tha’ he found out ‘bout her feelings.” He shrugged lightly.

Will quietly gulped, glad that his father didn’t hear it. ‘This is bad,’ he thought. ‘If Baylee still holds any affections for Bard, Bofur could get his heart ripped in two. From what I’ve heard, he’s already suffered one loss of a lover; I don’t want it to happen to him again…I think Bofur would be better for her anyway in the long run.’

Warren patted Will on the back as he stood up. “C’mon, lad,” he told him. “It’s nearly time for dinner an’ the girls could use a bit o’ help with the patrons.”

“I’ll be there in a minute,” Will assured him. “Just need a bit more fresh air before I head back in.” He wore a convincing smile as his father nodded and left. Inside, however, he didn’t feel so confident. ‘I need to tell Bofur about this…’

 

~*~*~

 

The door to Baylee’s room was slowly pushed open by two pairs of small hands. Buruz and Grid poked their heads into the room, peering through the dim light of early morning, trying to see if their human guest was awake or not. They saw her across the room, fast asleep in her bed with her crutches leaning against the wall. Matching mischievous grins spread across their young faces and they slowly tiptoed their way to the bed.

Grid softly giggled, earning a sharp, but silent, reprimand from her brother. His brows furrowed together, he held his index finger to his lips before slowly using the other hand to do a countdown. When he lowered the third finger, they both let out loud cries and jumped onto the bed.

They were confused to find out that their victim was nothing more than pillows arranged under a blanket. Looking at each other in confusion, they held up the pillows and blankets, trying to figure out what had gone wrong with their plan.

“She turned into pillows?” Buruz suggested, speaking in their native tongue.

“Can she do that?” Grid asked. “Is she a wiza-”

“RAWR!”

Both children shrieked in surprise and delight as Baylee suddenly leapt out of the shadows. As she crawled onto the bed, they laughed and tried to crawl away, but she managed to grab Buruz’s leg.

“Gotcha!” she grinned. Pulling him towards her, she pinned him to the bed and started to tickle him.

“Grid!” he laughed, trying to fend away Baylee’s tickling hands. “Grid! Nahubu!”

Grid rose up on her knees and grabbed one of the pillows. Laughing, she moved to hit Baylee with it, but the older female blocked the blow with her arm. “Let him go!” she giggled. “Or else get more hit!”

Baylee looked over at her, chuckling. “I don’t know, lass…tha’ sounds more like you want t’ get tickled!” She leaned over and started to tickle Grid’s sides. The little girl fell over in a fit of giggles; she proved a good distraction, for Buruz was able to slip away and he leapt onto Baylee’s back.

“Got you!” he victoriously declared.

“Oh?” Baylee reached behind them both and started to tickle his bare foot.

He squirmed, doing his best to not laugh as he tried to get his foot out of her grip. “Grid!”

“Trying!” Grid giggled, though she was finding it difficult to get away from the tickling.

Baylee grunted as she was suddenly forced face-first into the mattress as a second child –Sanna- jumped onto her back. Seconds later, she felt the weight of Grid joining her brother and sister as the two of them kept the human pinned down.

“I see someone’s feeling especially healed today,” Gerdi laughed, seeing the human being used as a cushion for her children.

“Just a –ack- wee bit,” Baylee replied, her voice muffled by the blankets. “Startin’ t’ regret it though. I forgot how they like t’ team up on me like this!” She tried to push herself up, but as small as they were, the dwarven children were quite heavy.

Gerdi clapped her hands. “Alright, you three, time to eat! Adad has your breakfast ready.”

“Awww…But were playin’!” Grid pouted. Regardless, she, Buruz, and Sanna climbed off of Baylee.

“We’ll play more later,” Baylee promised as she sat up. She did her best to hide any signs of pain from the children as she felt her hip protest a bit. Knowing full well that she shouldn’t have done such a thing, she felt no remorse about finally getting the children back for their constant early-morning wake up calls. “You three need t’ go eat so ya can get t’ be big, strong dwarves!”

Buruz grinned cheekily. “Will be big like Mister Dwalin!” he told her. “Bigger beard, too!”

“Oh, I’m sure o’ it,” she chuckled. “Now go on, go eat. I’ll see ya three in a while.” With an affectionate smile, she watched as the three children ran out of the room.

Gerdi lightly shook her head, chuckling. “It’s a shame they don’t like ya,” she joked.

“Oh, aye. Doesn’t help that I’m utterly horrible with children, either,” Baylee teased back. “Sorry about all the yellin’ though. Didn’t expect ‘em to be that loud this early in the mornin’.”

Gerdi dismissively waved her hand. “Bifur an’ Lovisa are already awake, so I doubt they minded.” She went over to Baylee’s trunk, starting to sort through the clothes to find what was dirty and what was clean. “Now, Lovisa’s in the bath right now, but it’ll be open after breakfast,” she told her, “an’ since Lovisa is goin’ t’ go t’ the market with Bifur later, I’ll help ya out with that.”

Baylee nodded in understanding. “An’ by the time I’m done in there, papa, Will, an’ Bofur should be here,” she finished, watching as Gerdi refolded her clean clothing. “The brown hose can be used for scrap cloth; there’s a nasty rip in them.”

“Well then, it seems we’ll also have to fit you for some new clothing!” she chuckled. “You’ve only one pair o’ hose left an’ only one pair o’ trousers. An’ don’t get me started on how you’ve only three dresses…”

Her cheeks turned a bit pink. “I had more, but the rest were lost durin’ the raid…”

An apologetic look came to the dwarf’s face. “I’m sorry, love,” she told her. “Luckily, clothes are easily replaceable. With that said, I know a wonderful seamstress –she makes the most gorgeous clothing, whether it’s for everyday or formal occasion.” Going over to the wall, she plucked up Baylee’s crutches and helped ease the girl to her feet. “Slowly now; those badgers o’ mine weren’t gentle on you this morning.”

A soft hiss left the human’s mouth. “It’s my fault, really,” she told her. “But I really wanted t’ get ‘em back for all the mornings they didn’t let me sleep in.”

Gerdi quietly laughed. “Understandable, love. Hm.” She held up a lock of Baylee’s hair. Thanks to various concoctions used by dwarves to make their hair long and thick, Baylee’s ashy locks had grown quite some inches in just a couple of weeks; it currently reached just below her shoulder blades. “Your hair is growin’ back faster than I expected,” she beamed. “It’ll be down to your knees in no time!”

Baylee rolled her eyes and laughed. “I don’t think I need it that long,” she lightly objected. “It’d get in the way at work.” She and Gerdi started to leave the room, Baylee hobbling behind on her crutches.

Gerdi shrugged. “That’s your choice,” she assured her. “It’ll be gorgeous either way.”

Her cheeks turned pink. “I doubt that. It’s just sort o’…plain.”

“Oh, don’t be silly! Your hair is lovely!” Gerdi lightly patted her arm. “It’ll be even prettier when it finishes growin’ back, love.”

Knowing it was useless to argue, Baylee merely chuckled and began the task of maneuvering herself down the stairs. ‘My hair isn’t nearly as pretty as hers or as Lovisa’s,’ she thought. ‘Even Will has better hair than me…’

Soon enough, she had conquered the stairs and had made her way into the dining hall, where Gerdi’s family was already gathered. Sitting down at the table, she glanced around only to find that Baraz was missing. For a moment, she thought that maybe he was in the kitchen, helping Berez and Bombur, but as the two of them came out, arms laden with plates of griddlecakes, eggs, bacon, slices of ham, and other such breakfast foods, she saw that she was wrong. She had wanted to thank him for the crutches he had crafted for her.

“Where’s Baraz at?” she questioned as Lovisa sat down across from her.

“He had some errands in the market,” Biriz answered as he stole the plate of bacon from his father. Grabbing a large handful, he dumped them on his plate before passing the plate to Bifur. “He’ll be back later t’ see Uncle Bof.”

She nodded in understanding. Grabbing the bowl of fried potatoes, she served herself a hearty spoonful before leaning back and passing it off to Gerdi, who dished out potatoes to Grid and Sanna. “That works. I just wanted to thank him for the crutches.” She reached out and snatched up the pot of peppered gravy and she coated her potatoes with it. In the short time she had been in the Ur household, she had learned that if she wanted something, she had to grab it fast.

Lovisa’s hand darted out, snatching up one of the larger biscuits before Bifur could grab it. ‘Too slow,’ she teasingly signed as he gawked at her. To assert her victory, she took a bite out of the biscuit.

His brow rose. “Will get revenge,” he grinned. He glanced as Biriz stole up the bowl of fruit as Grid was trying to get it. Frowning, he lightly thwacked him atop the head with a spoon before taking the bowl from him and offering it to the little girl.

“Tank you, Cousin Bifur,” she chirped. As Biriz pouted at her, she blew a raspberry at him before taking out a peach. Before giving the bowl back to her brother, though, she stole part of an apple and put it on Sanna’s plate. She told her little sister something in Khuzdul before taking a large bite out of her peach.

Lovisa snatched up two griddlecakes, which she plopped on Baylee’s plate. ‘Bath is ready,’ she signed to her.

“Alright,” Baylee smiled. She burst out laughing when Lovisa reached for the last of the hardboiled eggs, but Bifur snatched it up before she could get it.

“Too slow,” grinned Bifur.

 

An hour later found Baylee sitting in a stone pool carved into the floor of the bathing room. Across from her, lightly steaming water poured down into the basin while a separate stream let the overflow flow away to some unknown destination. Behind Baylee sat Gerdi, her skirts hiked up as she sat on the edge of the pool, massaging a thick, purple paste into Baylee’s hair and scalp while Baylee washed herself.

“Your scalp tingling yet, lass?” Gerdi asked as she scooped up a bit more of the paste and rubbed it into an ashy lock. Strapped to her back, Edda grunted as she gummed away on a large, wooden disk, earning a fond chuckle from Baylee.

“Oh, it has been for the last ten minutes,” Baylee assured her.

“Good. It’s an extra strong batch this time ‘round,” she explained. “Now, I know ya said down t’ your knees was too long, so what would be a good length for you?” Finishing up, she twisted her hair up into a bun, using a pair of wooden sticks to temporarily hold it in place. “Maybe midway down your back?” She scooted over a bit so she could wash her hands off in the water.

“I was thinkin’ just a tad bit longer ‘n that, actually,” she admitted, her cheeks turning pink. “Maybe down t’ me bum? That’s a good length, right?” She turned slightly, waiting for Gerdi’s opinion.

For a moment, the dwarven woman was silent. She scratched her beard as she ponderingly stared at the human, her eyes narrowed a bit. She knew humans weren’t fans of keeping their hair as long as dwarven women; it was just too much of a hassle for them, since they had to deal with critters such as fleas and lice far more often than dwarves. It also got in the way for them, since they didn’t braid it, which meant strands constantly getting stuck in places or caught up in the wind. At the same time, however, Baylee seemed to suit the longer length, even if her locks weren’t quite there yet.

‘Not to mention, it’ll give Bofur more to braid,’ she thought with an amused smile. ‘And it’d be a shame to keep such a pretty color of hair so short! Combined with the freckles, it really brings out her eyes.’

“I say longer is just fine, love,” she finally answered. “We’ll leave this in until you’re ready t’ get out; that should help grow it out a bit longer than last time.”

A small smile came to Baylee features. “Alright, that sounds fine,” she told her. “I’d say I don’t expect it t’ work right away, but I was proven wrong the first time we used it.” She remembered how her hair had gone from ear-length to shoulder-length in the span of a day. Something fell onto the ground behind Gerdi and a quiet whine was heard. “Aw, did the wee lass drop her teethin’ ring?”

Gerdi was beginning to turn around to grab the toy, but Baylee scooted back and plucked it up for her. Unstrapping the infant from her back, she sat Edda on her knee, smiling fondly as the human offered the toy back to her daughter. Edda smiled widely, showing the very tip of a tooth that had cut through. Her small hands grasped the wooden toy and pulled it back into her mouth. She began to giggle as Baylee lightly tickled her exposed feet.

“If ya keep this up lass,” she giggled, “you’ll be known as Auntie Baylee soon.”

“That’s what Bombur was sayin’! Can’t say I don’t mind; I love children.” She poked at her scalp, doing his best to not disturb the hair, but also trying to relieve a bit of an itch. “At least until they spit up or need a change…”

Gerdi giggled again. “So basically, ya love them so long as ya can hand them back when things get messy?”

Baylee cheekily smiled. “Aye!”

“Speakin’ o’ wee ones, I’m surprised Nori’s got a wee one now!” Edda began to fuss, so she started to lightly bounce the child on her knee. “Not that it’s a bad thing, o’ course –I just would have never pictured him t’ be the fatherly type.”

“He didn’t seem very much the type t’ me, either,” Baylee agreed. She flinched as she brought her knee to her chest. “But here he is.”

Gerdi nodded slowly. “Hopefully this means he’ll keep his nose out o’ trouble then,” she sighed. “The last thing that poor child needs is for him t’ get thrown away in jail again…”

Baylee’s brows furrowed. “He’s been to jail before?”

“Oh, heavens yes! Nori’s one of the most renowned thieves in Ered Luin!” she told her. “Dwalin’s never mentioned it?” Baylee shook her head. “Oh, well, Dwalin’s nearly caught him half a dozen times. Finally managed t’ catch him for nicking a coin purse from some elderly dwarf woman.”

Baylee was more than a little surprised to learn of this information. She had always known that Nori wasn’t quite like the other dwarves; he never seemed to have a craft about him. Now she could see why…Still, she couldn’t help but wonder if he had stolen anything from any of the patrons at the Tankard. She didn’t recall any complaints of theft, nor did she recall Nori having any suspicious behavior.

“‘Course that was nearly ten years ago now,” Gerdi continued. “I can honestly say tha’ Nori has changed –an’ for the better. That little Zori simply adores him an’ even if Nori won’t admit it, I know he adores the wee lad, too.”

“Oh, he does,” Baylee agreed. “I remember it bein’ suggested that we leave Zori in Dorwinion an’ Nori would have none o’ it.” She glanced behind her as a knock rang out from the door. “Who is it?”

The reply came in the form of silence, letting them know that it was Lovisa.

“Come in,” Gerdi told her.

Lovisa quickly came into the room, not wanting to risk someone passing by and peeking in. ‘Am heading to market,’ she signed to them. ‘Anything need, want?’

“Ah! Yes!” Gerdi handed Edda to Baylee, who promptly began blowing raspberries on her stomach, and stood up. She walked over to Lovisa while untying a pouch from her belt. “Please give this t’ Seamstress Níhna; tell her the instructions are inside the pouch, along with payment. Bifur will know the way.’

Nodding in understanding, Lovisa looked over at Baylee. ‘Anything?’

“Not tha’ I can think of,” she replied. “Unless you can find lemon cake.”

Lovisa grinned and playfully rolled her eyes. ‘Always lemon cake!’

“It’s my favorite,” Baylee giggled. She blinked as she was suddenly forced to look away by Edda, who was pushing on her cheek with a drool-covered hand. “Oh, I’m sorry. Did I stop payin’ attention t’ you, wee one?”

Lovisa hoarsely chuckled. She turned back to Gerdi, who wore a smile as she watched the two. ‘Thank you again for housing us. Baylee doing much better thanks to you, Bombur.’

Gerdi reached up and set a hand on her shoulder. “You’ve been just as much of a help,” she quietly told her. “And not just with Baylee, but with my family as well. The children adore ya an’ you’re an enormous help when it comes t’ gettin’ the cleanin’ done.”

A bit of color came to Lovisa’s tanned cheeks and she smiled fondly. ‘What can say? Love to help.’

“And it certainly shows,” she chuckled. “Well, I should let you head off; don’t want t’ keep Bifur waitin’ too long, after all.”

Lovisa nodded in agreement. ‘See later.’

Leaving the bathing room, she went down the hall and up a flight of stairs, where Bifur was waiting for her. He gave her a small smile.

“Ready to go?” he asked, speaking in Khuzdul.

Tying the satchel to her belt, she nodded. When she came alongside him, Bifur opened the door and followed her out of the mansion. ‘Know where Seamstress Níhna is?’ she signed.

“Aye,” he replied. ‘She’s in the heart of the market. Let me guess –Gerdi’s sendin’ you there?”

‘Yes. Have feeling she order Baylee clothing.’

“Oh? Why’s that then?” As they walked down the street, he made sure to walk alongside her.

She shrugged. ‘Asked what colors Baylee like, looked good in. Also if she have favorite stones.’

Bifur let out a small laugh. “Aye, she’s gettin’ Baylee some clothes, then –dwarven clothes, too, from the sound of it.”

Lovisa looked at him, a brow raised. ‘Baylee not dwarrow, though.’

“That may be, but let’s face it, Lady Lovisa –She’s about the size o’ one of us. Not that it’s a bad thing for a human t’ be!”

She quietly giggled. ‘True. And finally is gaining weight. Was too skinny! Now is looking more like woman…’

“Can’t say I’ve been much attention t’ that, truthfully,” he joked. “However, I have noticed that your ribs haven’t been bothering you as much anymore. Do you think they’re nearly healed?”

Holding her hand up, she slightly wiggled it. ‘Somewhat. Still hurt if turn fast, turn wrong.’

He nodded in understanding. “Well, that’s good. Means you’re well on your way to being mended.” Looking up at her, he gave her a small smile. “How much longer do you reckon you and Baylee will have to stay here?”

‘Baylee healing well; walking sooner than thought. Not have much pain when walk, either. Maybe two weeks?’ She turned slightly, allowing for a dwarf and his goods-laden mule to pass by.

“I see,” he murmured. He couldn’t quite say that he’d be happy to see her leave…but with the toyshop in Dale, he knew he’d get to see her quite often. “Do ya mind if I ask how you like Erebor so far?” he questioned after some minutes.

‘Enjoy it,’ she answered with a smile. ‘Interesting to see what father’s people like. Not know many dwarves until you lot. Now get to see all this!’ She motioned to the city and folk around them. ‘Almost feel like belong here.’

He cocked his head. “What do you mean?”

She glanced away, her cheeks reddening a bit once more. ‘Have never felt like I belonged anywhere,’ she admitted. ‘Grow up half-dwarrow in Lake Town –man city. Father last full-blood dwarrow in city; when died, was sort of outcast. Luckily, good friends with Warren. Took me in, sort of. Baylee, Will, Warren –are family.’

“I see,” he murmured, nodding. “But sometimes, you just don’t feel like ya belong because they’re all full human, aye?”

She nodded, smiling sadly. ‘Not sure belong here, either.’

“Because you’re part human?”

Again, she nodded.

“Do you want in on a wee secret?”

She cocked her brow in curiosity.

He looked around as they entered the market before glancing up at her. It hasn’t been easy livin’ with this ax in my head.” He lightly tapped the blade for emphasis. “For a long while, I wasn’t as sane as I am now an’ most days, T’ say the least, I could be a bit on the crazy side at times an’ I knew I was a burden to Bofur an’ Bombur. There were some days where I just thought about up an’ leavin’ because I thought I didn’t belong there.

“One night, I was about to go out the door for good, but Bofur stopped me. Do you know what he told me?” She shook her head. “He told me, ‘Bifur, the only place you belong is the place where you are loved.’ An’ it’s true. Whether you’re in a city o’ men or a city o’ dwarrows, if your family loves you, you belong there, with them.”

Lovisa smiled; though it still bore a hint of sorrow, he could tell that his words had lifted her spirits a bit. ‘Thank you.’

He returned the smile, his cheeks a bit red as well. If they hadn’t been in the midst of a crowded market and out in the open, he would have stood on his tiptoes and kissed her. His better half kept him at bay, however –not to mention, they had reached the seamstress’ shop. “Ah…Here’s Níhna’s shop,” he told her. “You go on in; I’ll be at that stand over there.” He pointed to a stall that was selling fine cheeses.

‘See in few,’ she replied before heading into the shop.

As he watched her step inside, he let out a long sigh and rubbed the back of his neck, walking towards the stall. ‘A woman like her shouldn’t feel like an outcast,’ he thought. ‘Not with how kind and loving she is.’

Approaching the stall, he looked over the cheese selection. Bombur had asked him to get a nice, large wheel of a soft cheese, preferably one that would taste good with slices of apple and some wine. He hadn’t the slightest idea why Bombur wanted a soft cheese that would go well with apples and wine; normally his cousin didn’t care about such things. Unless he was planning on trying to make a dinner that would impress Warren and Will…He quickly shook his head. No, he thought, that wasn’t a very Bombur-ish thing to do. Bombur liked to give his guests food that would leave them feeling warm and welcomed. Cheese with fruit and wine? That was the sort of thing Dori liked to do…

After some minutes of deliberation, he decided on a cheese that had come from over the Misty Mountains. Unsurprisingly, it was named after the town in which it was made –Bree. The proprietor had told him that it was a good cheese to serve with any sort of alcohol and with crunchy fruits like pears, apples, and fresh grapes. While he highly doubted Bombur was able to get his plump hands on grapes, he knew that apples and pears lurked in his pantry.

While he was giving the cheese monger the information about where the wheel of Bree was to be delivered, Lovisa came up alongside him. Her brow rose, finding herself somewhat amused by all the cheese selections before her; she couldn’t remember seeing that much cheese in her life. There was orange cheese, yellow cheese, white cheese, cheese with holes, cheese with herbs, cheese with weird blue veins…

‘Where in Middle Earth does one get so many cheeses?’ she thought, her head cocked to the side. ‘And why does that one have mold in it…?’

Bifur glanced up at her and chuckled. Before paying for the wheel of Bree, he also asked for a small block of a softer, white cheese that was floating in a bucket of brine. Exchanging the money for the cheese, he led Lovisa off while breaking the small ball of cheese in half. The bigger half he offered up to her as they started to walk off.

‘What kind?’ she asked, cautiously taking it. She had never been a fan of most cheeses; they tended to be too strong for her palate. ‘Am picky when comes to cheese…’

“Not sure what it is in other tongues, but we dwarrows call it ‘môtezeka’. Try it; it’s good.” He took a large bite from his half.

First, Lovisa sniffed it; it didn’t smell nearly as strong as the stuff she was used to. With an apprehensive look, she took a small bite. Her brows rose as she found herself pleasantly surprised. The flavor was quite mild, though it did have a slight tang. The second bite she took was bigger than the first.

‘Is good!’ she signed to Bifur, wearing a smile. ‘Is a surprise; most cheese too strong for me.’

“The lighter the cheese, the milder it tends t’ be,” he explained. “Not always the case, of course, but it seems t’ be true for most cheeses.” He led he over to a stand that sold vegetables from the nearby farms and the two of them began hunting out the best ones for Bombur and Gerdi.

‘Bombur want tomatoes?’ she signed from across the stall.

He nodded. “Aye. If you can find two dozen, that should work.” He was currently sorting through different types of mushrooms. Bombur hadn’t specified what he wanted, which left Bifur a bit confused as to what he should get. Button mushrooms were a common ingredient in many of Bombur’s dishes, but he also liked the larger, hen-of-the-woods mushrooms for their meatier flavor –oh, but there was also Pheasant’s Back that was a favorite of Gerdi…

Before he could allow himself to get frustrated, Bifur asked for a large basket to be filled with all three types of mushrooms, as well as two dozen carrots and a dozen parsnips. They filled Lovisa’s basket with the tomatoes, potatoes, and two different types of lettuces.

‘Bombur, Gerdi making feast?’ asked Lovisa when they finally left the stall.

He shrugged. “Every meal they make is a feast.”

A small, hoarse laugh left her throat. ‘True. Large family.’

“Both in number and in width,” he joked, earning another laugh from her.

Not having much else left on their shopping list, they meandered around the market, looking over various stalls. More than once, deals on fine jewelry were offered to Lovisa, but she politely declined them. Once or twice, Bifur was offered an ‘excruciatingly low’ price for some ‘rare’ gems by some shady looking dwarves –at which he rolled his eyes and walked away.

They came to outside of a forge, where they could see (and hear) axes, spearheads, and daggers being shaped. Outside the building, a dealer had some examples of the smiths’ handy work. Plucking up a spearhead, she carefully looked it over. It was of wonderful quality, with the steal tempered just right to allow for finely sharpened edges and a sturdy cap to go over the wooden shaft.

‘How Bombur, Gerdi like boar?’ she suddenly signed.

Bifur blinked. “It’s a rare treat for the family,” he told her. “Why?”

She scratched her chin, now inspecting a barbed arrowhead. ‘Have wanted to thank for letting me, Baylee stay,’ she explained. ‘Is boar season; want get one as gift.’ She set the arrowhead down.

“There are boar here?” he asked, surprised.

‘Aye! Big boars,’ she told him, wearing a wide grin. She made a motion to catch the dealer’s attention before starting to question him about the possibility of getting some arrows made.

‘It’d be nice to go hunting again,’ Bifur thought, watching as the two haggled prices. ‘I haven’t been on a proper hunt in years…My spear could do with a bit of goblin-and-warg-free action.’ His brow rose slightly as he watched Lovisa lean over, pointing at the type of head she wanted for her arrows. The action also allowed the dealer to get a glimpse of her cleavage and he promptly got a bit red in the cheeks and a grin came to his face.

When the two of them walked away from the stall, Lovisa had bought thirty arrows for a quarter of the price.

“I knew you were a hunter in the past, but I didn’t know you still were,” Bifur admitted.

‘Not hunt much anymore,’ she admitted. ‘Only for special occasion…or if family kidnapped.’

He chuckled. “I can see why for that last one,” he told her. “I used to hunt, too.”

‘Oh?’

He nodded. “When Bofur and Bombur’s parents passed on, I was the one who had t’ take care o’ them, so I had t’ do a lot more huntin’ since I didn’t have quite enough food t’ fill their appetites. It got a bit easier when Bifur took up work in the mines…”

She nodded in understanding. ‘Miss it?’

“Sometimes,” he smiled. “But mostly the hunts where I could take my time an’ didn’t have t’ worry about makin’ sure Bifur and Bombur got a good dinner before bed.”

Again, she nodded. ‘Know how that is,’ she admitted. ‘Have had force food into father before. Was too tired from work to eat and sleep.’

“Ahh, one o’ those sort of smiths,” he chuckled. “My own da’ was like that. Drove my mother insane at times.”

‘Is hard life to live,’ she told him. ‘Torn between work, family. Not mention, training Warren!’

“At least Warren seems like he was a good pupil.”

‘Very. Very dedicated! Was sometimes at forge longer than father.’

He smiled. “Well, I see it’s come in handy over the years for him.”

She nodded. ‘By way…want come hunting…?’

“I’d love to.” They came to stop outside of a jewelry shop that he had an errand in. Opening the door, he let her step in before him. “When would you want to go?”

‘Two, maybe three day,’ she answered. Her jaw slightly fell as she looked around. The store was filled with all sorts of jewelry, from necklaces to bracelets and from earrings to hair and beard clasps. All sorts of colors filled her eyes as the thousands of gems, large and small, reflected the light of dozens of candles; the ceiling was filled with little, multicolored spots from the light reflecting off their surfaces. ‘Durin’s beard…’

Bifur glanced at her, grinning. She looked utterly entranced by the wealth around them.

“Can I help you?” a dwarf asked from behind the counter.

“I’m here to pick up a custom order,” Bifur replied, approaching him. “A single earring for Bifur?”

He nodded before going into the back. While he waited, Bifur watched as Lovisa scanned over the various necklaces, earrings, and circlets kept under glass. He wandered a bit closer to her, trying to subtly see if there was anything her eyes was lingering particularly long on. Sadly, the clerk returned before he could get any ideas of what she liked.

“If you could describe the earring?” he asked, wanting to make sure Bifur was the actual buyer.

“A warg’s tooth capped with silver, protective runes engraved in the silver an’ strengthening ones in the tooth.”

Lovisa cocked her head. She thought it was a strange order of Bifur to make, but when she looked over and saw the earring, she instantly recognized the tooth: It was the larger of the two that had been pulled from Baylee after the battle. Of course, it had been cleaned and polished so that it was no longer streaked with blood, but it was still recognizable.

‘Is he giving that to Baylee?’ she wondered. Last she had known, it was Baylee who had been in possession of the tooth…

As if reading her mind, Bifur gave her a small smile. “Baylee asked me t’ have it cleaned an’ fashioned into an earring for Bofur,” he explained. “To go with his other one.”

‘I see.’ She moved to walk across the store to look at more jewelry.

Something behind her suddenly caught his attention: It was a headpiece, meant to sit over the hair. Two, thick silver chains curved around the side of the head before meeting a thinner chain that rested over the head. Dangling from the thick chains were emeralds that had been cut into leaves of varying sizes. It was a simple piece that most women would use for everyday wear, yet it had a certain elegance to it. His head tilted ever so slightly and he turned back to the clerk, quietly asking for it to be added to his purchase.

Lovisa didn’t know he had bought the headpiece until they had left the store. In fact, she wasn’t aware of it until they had come home and had delivered the groceries to the pantry. Bifur had made sure she was oblivious, for he knew that she would try to make him take it back and he was having none of that. While they were still in the pantry, Lovisa filling the upper shelves and he the lower ones, he slipped the box containing the headpiece between a couple of carrots.

A grin came to his lips as he heard her make surprised noise.

‘Bifur, what this?’ she signed, holding it up.

He lightly shrugged. “A gift.”

Her brow skeptically rose and she started to open the box. The second she saw the strands of silver and emeralds though, she slammed it shut, her eyes wide and her face one shade paler. She swallowed hard before opening the box again. Nervously, she licked her lips as she pulled the headpiece out, handling it gingerly as if it were a child.

“Do you like it?” he asked after a few moments.

Slowly, she nodded, still in complete awe. ‘Have…have never gotten gift like this,’ she told him. ‘Thank you.’

His brows furrowed. “You’ve really never gotten any jewelry?” She nodded a second time. “That’s a shame. I mean, I can understand it, since you’re a hunter and all, but regardless…” He went over to her and gently took the headpiece from her hands. Standing on a stool, he did his best to evenly set it over her head. “There,” he murmured, stepping down. The silver was a light enough shade that it seemed to disappear against her snowy locks, giving the emeralds the appearance of floating freely.

Lovisa’s cheeks had turned a dark shade of red. ‘How look?’

“Like a woodland princess,” he half joke, half replied sincerely. The emeralds looked quite lovely against the gold of her skin and worked to bring out the honey color of her eyes.

She smiled at him, about to reply when a chorus of ‘Uncle Bofur! Uncle Bof!’ rang out from the hallway. Looking over her shoulder, Lovisa grinned broadly.

‘Guess they finally here,’ she smiled.

“Guess so. You best go greet them,” he told her. “I’ll finish up in here.”

She gave him another smile before walking out of the pantry and headed towards the entry hall. By the time she reached it, Will and Warren were being greeted by Baylee and Bofur was lying under a pile of dwarrowlings. Lovisa cracked up at the sight; Bofur was pinned quite thoroughly while Warren had his daughter dangling a foot off the ground as he hugged her. When the two humans looked up and saw her, Will raced over and gave her a tight squeeze as well.

“By my beard, look at the two o’ you!” Warren exclaimed. “Lovisa, you’re lookin’ the most rested I’ve seen ya in ages an’ Baylee!” He gave her another squeeze before passing her off to her brother. “You’re up an’ walkin’ already?” He crouched down and gave Lovisa a hug just as big as the one he gave Baylee.

“Mama say she heal fast,” Grid chirped. She had stolen her uncle’s hat and was currently wearing it.

Baylee chuckled. “Aye, I am healin’ a bit faster than expected,” she told her father. “Buruz, Grid, Sanna –let your uncle up, you sillies! He’s not a rug!”

“Oh, don’t be tellin’ them tha’,” Bofur laughed, his voice somewhat muffled. “They’ve been doin’ this t’ me ever since they could walk! Soon, wee lil’ Edda will be doin’ the same.”

The three dwarrowlings innocently grinned up at Baylee, who giggled as Bofur’s hat slipped and covered the entirety of Grid’s head.

Will looked down at his sister as he carefully set her back on the ground. “You’ve gotten heavier, ‘Lee. Is all this good, dwarven food helpin’ ya t’ gain a bit o’ weight back?” He laughed as she playfully hit him.

“It’s probably muscle from wrestlin’ with those three,” she chuckled. Warren gave her a worried look. “Don’t worry, papa –it’s not rough wrestlin’. Mostly, it’s me ticklin’ them like I will if they don’t let Uncle Bofur up.”

The dwarrowlings looked up at her, eyes wide. Their momentary surprise gave Bofur the chance to turn around and grab all three of them in his arms, tickling their faces with his mustache. Shrieks of laughter echoed down the hall and brought out Gerdi, who was wiping her hands on a dishtowel. She smiled at the sight of the bunch, though she couldn’t help but gawk at the sheer size of Warren and Will.

“Durin’s beard! Baylee an’ Lovisa weren’t lyin’ when they said you two were giants!” she caught herself saying.

Warren glanced up before an innocent grin spread across his face. He and his son bowed low before the woman of the house. “Warren ra’William Braddock, za’i dashunzu,” he told her as they stood upright once more –well, almost upright; they had to stoop slightly thanks to the low ceiling.

Once more, she was taken aback by shock. “Bofur, did ya teach them that?” she asked. It was incredibly rare that someone who wasn’t a dwarf to know any bit of Khuzdul. Before she forgot, she quickly curtseyed. “Gerdi, at your service, by the way.”

Bofur, having managed to stand upright with Grid and Buruz tucked under his arms and Sanna sitting on his shoulders, merely chuckled. “I didn’t.”

“I was apprenticed t’ a dwarven smith,” Warren told her. “I picked up a wee bit o’ the language, but most o’ it isn’t considered proper conversational material.” He grinned as the little ones giggled, Sanna’s laughter muted by her uncle’s hat.

“Mmm…Gerdi, is tha’ your fish soup I’m smellin’?” Bofur asked, sniffing the air. He thanked Lovisa as she plucked Sanna off of his shoulders, allowing him to stand upright.

“Aye, it is! It’s almost ready, too –just need t’ add in the fish an’ last bit of parsley.”

He grinned. “Well, I think I know where my first stop is goin’ t’ be!” He started towards the kitchen, his nephew and niece still under his arms.

“Oh, no ya don’t!” Gerdi grinned, grabbing one of his braids. “You an’ those two,” she pointed at her children, “are going t’ go set the table an’ make our guests comfortable.”

The three of them wore matching pouts. “But mama…” Grid began to protest.

“No buts! Go set the table; by the time you’re done, lunch will be ready.”

 

~*~

 

Despite what any human or elf thought, it was entirely possible to have a garden when one lived inside a mountain. Dwarvish gardens were much greener (and bluer, for that matter), but not in the way of plant life –no, they were green thanks to the bioluminescent moss and fungi that thrived in the cool, dark environment. Stalagmites jutted out of the sandy ground, their surfaces covered with the bright fungus. The soft light illuminated a pebbly path that led through the sand, branching off in many directions to who knows where.

It was along this path that Warren and Baylee were currently walking/hobbling. After a hearty lunch of fish soup, bread, and roasted tomatoes, the two of them decided that it would be good to sit outside for a bit while Will and Bofur ran to the market to pick up more yeast for Gerdi.

“So have you been likin’ it here?” Warren asked. He was doing his best to take in the garden around them while also not stumbling.

“Oh, aye!” Baylee replied, smiling. “It’s actually quite a bit like the Tankard when it was in Lake Town. Full o’ good food, rambunctious wee ones, an’ good company.” Pausing in her steps, she tucked a lock of her hair behind her ear.

“Hey! Lookit that, your hair’s gone an’ grown!” he beamed. “How did tha’ happen?”

She quietly laughed. “It’s a weird paste Gerdi’s been puttin’ in it. Just two uses an’ my hair’s this long now.” Tugging on a lock, she showed her father its regrown length. “Bet Caranonel an’ her folk don’t have something like this,” she grinned.

“I bet they don’t.” He reached down and lightly tousled her hair. He was more than a little happy to see that his daughter was faring well. “I’m glad you’re likin’ it here. I was worried as all get that you’d hold some sort o’ grudge against me for makin’ ya come here.”

Glancing up at her father, she could see a small look of sorrow in his eyes. “Papa, ya only had the best of intentions in mind when you told me I was comin’ here. I know Aunt Demelza an’ Galiene were giving you a hard time about it, but when you go back, feel free t’ rub it in their faces that I’m doin’ just fine.”

He let out a hearty laugh. “Rub it in their faces, huh?”

She shrugged. “If’n ya like.”

“Maybe you’ve been around these dwarves a little too long,” he joked. “Ah, but you’re lookin’ a lot better, ‘Lee. An’ I don’t mean with you walkin’ around. You’ve gotten some weight back an’ your skin’s got more color to it now.”

At that, Baylee giggled. “Papa, o’ course my skin has color –the sun tanned my hide when I was in Rhûn!”

“You know plenty well what I mean, ‘Lee,” he chuckled. They came to a bench and he took her crutches as she sat down. “How bad does it hurt still?”

“Not t’ much in the mornin’, but by midafternoon, it’s throbbin’ –but that’s only if I’m walkin’ around a lot an’ using the leg.”

He nodded in understanding. “So that’s why you’ve mostly kept tha’ leg up?” She nodded. “Makes sense. But it’s still healin’ nicely, right?”

“Aye. Luckily, Gerdi’s got some experience with tending to wounds, thanks to all her children an’ her side o’ the family, so she’s been keeping in line.” She pointed at her face, where the warg scars were just barely visible. “She also helped make these scratches not scar as bad, though they’re still a bit noticeable thanks t’ my freckles.”

Warren smiled down at her, feeling a mixture of pity and guilty as he did so. “You’re still my beautiful lil’ princess, ‘Lee,” he told her as he gave her a bear hug.

She laughed, trying to wriggle out of his grip. “I’m not a princess, papa,” she giggled. “I’m an innkeeper’s daughter.”

“Nah,” he refuted, “to me, you an’ Will will always be my lil’ princess an’ prince.” He held her against him, letting out a soft sigh. “Have ya had any nightmares?” He watched her cheeks darken before she looked away. “So ya have…”

Sighing, she leaned forward, elbows resting on her knees. “Aye. I don’t even know what brought ‘em on.”

“Sometimes, they just happen,” he assured her. He began to lightly rub her back the way her mother had when she was little. “After all our family’s been through over the years, I’d be surprise if you didn’t have nightmares.”

Baylee glanced up at him. “Will doesn’t,” she mumbled dejectedly.

“Oh, I’m sure he does, lass. Will’s just…always had this need t’ protect us an’ so he puts all his troubles aside so he can worry ‘bout us.” He looked towards the ceiling, his eyes fixing on an especially large specimen of mushroom.

“Now that he’s got Adela an’ a baby on the way, he’ll get more protective,” Baylee stated. “I heard about what happened between her, you, an’ Mannus. Mannus isn’t the one t’ give up somethin’ so easily, so I’m sure Will is goin’ t’ be extra protective o’ Adela.”

“Oh, that he is,” Warren agreed. “But not the bad sort, no. He’s goin’ t’ make a good husband for her an’ a good daddy for their baby.” He smiled fondly at the idea of being a grandfather. “They’ll be gettin’ married during the harvest festival.”

His daughter seemed to perk at this new information. “Really?” He nodded. “Good! I’m sure it’ll be a lovely weddin’; Valar know that there will be enough food an’ drink t’ keep everyone quiet durin’ the ceremony.” She giggled as Warren ruffled her hair again.

“Let’s hope there’ll be none o’ that durin’ the ceremony!” he laughed. “Though, tha’ reminds me: Guess who came t’ call yesterday?”

She cocked her head. “Who?” she inquired.

“Bard.”

“Oh really? Is he tryin’ to get you t’ be his advisor again?” she laughed.

Warren rubbed the back of his neck, the humor in his voice sounding a bit more forced now. “No, not exactly, lass,” he chuckled. “We were talkin’ about the festival and how well the farms had done this year an’ the like…but then he asked me somethin’.”

Baylee’s brow rose; Warren didn’t seem very confident at the moment. “What did he ask?” she asked, the caution evident in her tone.

“He asked…” For the second time, he rubbed the back of his neck before nervously starting to rub his outer thighs. “He asked me if he could…if he could court you.”

Baylee felt her stomach drop and her skin go cold. “He…what?”

Warren nodded slowly. “Asked if he could court you.”

“What did ya tell him?” she asked, her voice cracking slightly.

“Well, I told him it was up t’ you in the long run, but that aye, he had my permission.” He looked down at her to find her staring blankly at the stone in front of them. “Is…is that bad? I thought ya fancied him.”

“I did!” she told him. “But…but well…” She closed her eyes and fell silent, her mind racing.

Why now? she thought. Why now of all times did he want to court her? Did he still love her? She knew that, had she not taken so long to finally admit her feelings, she would have been his wife and the mother of his two girls. Instead, she had dawdled, allowing for another woman to steal him. When he finally found out her true feelings, he was already married and expecting a child. When he had told her that he had felt the same, but had wanted to hear the words from her, it was just too late and her heart had been ripped to pieces.

But that was eight years ago. Bard was now a widower and his daughters old enough to accept that their father could –and would- take a new wife. But could he still love her after all this time? She couldn’t remember how long she had loved him; she had forced the feelings to the back of her mind until she became all but numb to them.

What scared Baylee the most was the possibility that she was, indeed, still in love with Bard. She could recall recent memories of speaking to him and feeling her cheeks flush when he paid her small compliments or how she would give him small, shy smiles whenever he would glance her way. It didn’t help was that he was the most handsome man in Dale…

‘Valar help me,’ she thought.

 

~*~*~

 

Bofur and Will were in the market. They had already picked up the block of yeast for Gerdi, but now they were on the hunt for the perfect ring for Adela. It was an arduous task; even with the lower prices in Erebor, there was an incredibly vast collection of jewelry to sort through. What also didn’t help much was that Will had to be hunched over in all of the stores –their ceilings weren’t as high as the ones back in the mansion.

“The main thing is,” Will murmured, “I don’t want t’ get her a diamond, ruby, or emerald. They’re the common stones used in wedding rings in Dale an’ Lake Town and, well…”

“Your Adela is no ordinary lass,” Bofur finished for him. “I know the feelin’, lad.”

He chuckled. “What, you’ve already started huntin’ out a ring for Baylee?” He scooted down a bit, looking over some amethyst rings.

“Nah…” Pointing at a possible ring made from amber and yellow sapphire, he kept an eye out for any other ring that looked to be out of the ordinary. “Baylee’s not my first love.”

At that, Will frowned slightly and glanced up at him. “What?”

Bofur nodded. “Aye, I had a fiancée years an’ years ago. Probably long before you an’ Baylee were born, truthfully. Ooh, what about this one?” He pointed at a ring that was made from rose gold and pink tourmaline. It had two entwined bands that wrapped around the light pink stone, resembling the petals of a flower.

“Close!” Will answered. “I like the pinkness o’ the gold.”

“Rose gold,” Bofur corrected. “What about the stone?”

“I was thinkin’ more along the likes of yellow sapphire or amber. What happened to your fiancée?”

Bofur unconsciously grabbed the tooth dangling from his left ear. “She passed on,” he simply explained. Of course, it was more complicated than that, but he knew that now wasn’t the time for grim tales.

“Oh…I’m sorry,” Will told him, wearing a small frown.

“Ah, you didn’t know, lad.” He wore a reassuring smile. “Now get back t’ finding a ring, eh?”

Will nodded and turned back to the rings. ‘At least he managed to find love again,’ he thought as he scrutinized every piece of jewelry he laid his eyes on. ‘I couldn’t think of anyone better for Baylee to be courting, especially since he—oh. Shit, that’s right –Bard!’ He swallowed hard and looked over his shoulder at the dwarf, who was admiring the handiwork on some beard clasps. ‘Not now. After we’re out of here…’

It was then that a glint of silver caught his eye. His brow rising, he turned towards the glint and saw an oval of amber surrounded by swirls of rose gold and silver. Tiny yellow sapphires were in the centers of three of the swirls while the others were left open. It was simple, yet the way the precious metals curled around and around gave it an air of elegance.

It was perfect.

“That’s it,” he mumbled. “That’s the one. Bofur! I found it!”

Bofur came back over. “Tha’ one there?” he asked.

“Aye! Isn’t it beautiful?”

He chuckled. “Aye, it is, lad.” He looked up and called over the clerk.

Within ten minutes, the two of them were leaving the shop, Will tucking the small ring box into the inner pocket of his vest. He wore the largest grin that Bofur had ever seen on his face; he was afraid it would split the lad’s face in half.

“Adela’s going t’ love this,” Will beamed, patting his vest. “Thanks for helpin’ me, Bofur.”

He dismissively waved his hand. “It’s no trouble, lad.”

Will grinned as he followed the dwarf, but a strange feeling nagged at him. His brows furrowed together; why did he suddenly feel guilty? If anything, he should be feeling ecstatic. Unless…

“Bofur, I need to tell you somethin’,” he suddenly spoke, his tone worried.

“What’s wrong, lad?” Bofur glanced over his shoulder at him. “You look worried all o’ a sudden.”

Will lightly tugged him into a quiet alleyway. “It’s about Baylee.”

He gave the human an odd look. “What about Baylee…?”

“My da’ gave permission to Bard t’ court her,” he explained. He watched as all happiness left the dwarf’s face. “Normally, I wouldn’t have a care ‘bout it, but…But Baylee loved him for a good long while. She may still love him –I don’t know. She may not agree t’ court him, but I just had-”

Bofur pulled away from him and bolted into the crowd, having dropped the basket of yeast blocks on the ground. Not caring that he was shoving aside male and female alike, he pushed his way out of the market. Freed from the crowded streets, he ran as if all the goblins of the Misty Mountains were on his heels.

‘Please, Mahal, please…please don’t let me lose her,’ he thought. ‘Please don’t take another love from me!’ Tears stung at his eyes, but he hadn’t the sense to wipe them away.

Bursting into the front hall of the mansion, he saw Gerdi burping Edda.

“Bofur, what’s the matter?” she started, but didn’t get a chance to finish.

“Where’s Baylee!?” he demanded, grabbing her shoulders.

Gerdi looked more than a little startled. “She’s in her room. Why, Bofur—”

He didn’t hear her as he raced up the staircase, taking the steps two at a time. Into the main living quarters and around the corner into the hall, he ran until he reached her door. He hurried knocked on it.

Baylee looked up from fluffing a pillow on her bed. “Come in,” she called, tossing the pillow against the headboard.

Bofur was a blur of tan and dark brown as he shot across the room. Baylee let out a small squeak as he suddenly clung onto her and she found herself quite thankful she was sitting down. Brows furrowing in confusion, she looked down at him.

“Bofur, what in Manwë’s name is goin’ on?” she asked, lightly tilting his head back. Her eyes widened when she saw tears pouring down his cheeks.

For a moment, he was unable to reply thanks to a sob trapped in his throat. He started to calm slightly as she brushed her fingers against his cheek, trying to wipe away his tears. “Don’t leave me,” he croaked.

“Leave you? What?” she quietly asked. She used the hem of her skirt to better dry his cheeks.

“W-Will told me ‘bout Bard,” he stammered. “He s-said that he had t’ give me a warnin’ b-because he asked your da’ if he c-could c-court ya an’ t-told me tha’ you used t’ be in love with him…an’ I panicked. I know he’s a handsome b-bloke an’ he’s smarter ‘n m-me an’ he’s a k-king, so he can spoil ya, b-but-” He was silenced as Baylee kissed him rather deeply, a quiet sob falling mute against her lips.

After a moment, she pulled back and lightly rested her forehead against his. “Bofur, don’t you think for one minute tha’ I’d leave you for Bard,” she whispered. “I love you more than I could ever love him.”

His lower lip wavered. “R-really?” he mumbled, almost pathetically.

She smiled, nodding slowly as she brushed some loose hair from his face. “Aye,” she calmly promised him. “An’ you know why?”

“Why?”

Her fingers lightly traced the scars that ran across his face. “Because it wasn’t Bard who went racin’ after me,” she whispered. “It wasn’t Bard who traveled hundreds o’ miles against all hope t’ rescue us. An’ it certainly wasn’t Bard who just came runnin’ to me, afraid that he was goin’ t’ lose me after everythin’ he’s done for me.”

Bofur’s lip still wobbled slightly, but he managed to smile as he looked into her eyes. Cupping her cheek in his hand, he gave her a small kiss. “You’ve no idea how happy I am t’ hear those words, lass,” he murmured.

“No, but I’ve got a pretty good idea,” she quietly laughed. “An’ Bofur?”

“Aye?”

“Don’t you go sayin’ he’s more handsome ‘n you.” She kissed him a third time, letting it linger for many seconds while she wrapped her arms around his neck.

“But he is,” he protested, his hands moving to wrap around her torso.

“Oh no he’s not,” she chuckled, nuzzling his cheek. “He may be a handsome man, but he doesn’t smile enough –he never has. But you…” She leaned back, nothing but love and tenderness in her eyes as she looked at him. “Your smile is one o’ the reasons I fell for ya, remember?” Kissing the tip of his nose, she pulled him closer to her. “Not t’ mention, there’s your eyes, your mustache, your laugh…”

Closing his eyes, he smiled and gave her a small squeeze. “You’re startin’ t’ make me blush, lass,” he quietly teased.

She also smiled, her fingers lightly toying with the braid that went down his back. Turning her head, she placed a small kiss on his jaw. “I love you.”

“I love ya, too, Baylee,” he whispered. “Mahal knows how much I love you.” He stroked her hair and took in her scent, sighing softly.

After some moments of silence and enjoying one another’s embrace, Baylee finally forced herself to pull back. “I have a gift for ya,” she told him.

“Do you now?” he chuckled. “Strange, because I actually have one for you, too.”

“Mine first!” she chirped. Leaning back, she grabbed something off of her nightstand. Bofur moved to sit beside her, moving her crutches out of the way. “Here ya go,” she smiled, handing him a box.

His brow rose and he grinned as he took it from her. Lightly shaking it, he heard something rattle within it. “Hmm…Wonder it could be?” he teased. As he opened the box, he found the warg’s tooth earring capped with silver. “Is this…?”

“The tooth from the warg tha’ bit me an’ you killed,” she finished. “I thought it’d match your other one.” There was a shy smile on her lips as she waited to hear how he liked it.

Bofur’s reply was simple: Taking it out of the box, he wore a look of concentration as he wiggled the ring part into his earlobe; it had been many years since that ear last had a decoration in it and the hole had started to close up. After a moment, he was finally able to finagle it into place and wore a proud grin.

“Well, how does it look?” he asked, turning towards her. During his fumbling about, the tip of the tooth had gotten caught in part of his braid.

“Like a handsome warg-slayer,” she giggled, reaching over to free the tooth from his braid. “Now ya just need your mattock an’ then you’d have all the ladies swooning.”

“Ah, I only want you swooning,” he laughed. Reaching inside his vest, he pulled out the thin box containing her almost-forgotten bracelet. “This was supposed t’ be for your birthday,” he explained as he handed it to her. “But, in the chaos, I forgot about it. Then I found it again when ya were comin’ here, but like the silly dwarf I am, I forgot about it again until I got back t’ the shop.”

Opening the box, she was surprised to find a bracelet inside. “Oh, Bofur, it’s beautiful,” she gasped as she took it out. “By the Valar, look at all the tiny details…” She started to inspect each charm, astounded to see how much detail each tiny charm had.

“I was hopin’ you’d like it,” he admitted. “I had t’ ask Will about your favorite animals an’ colors so I could get it right…” His cheeks were as red as cherries.

She looked up at him. “You…you made this?” He nodded, grinning like a schoolboy. “Help me put it on?” she asked, holding her wrist out to him.

Taking the bracelet from her, he undid the latch and wrapped it around her wrist. “Now would ya look at that,” he beamed, seeing that there wasn’t too much extra chain dangling like he thought there would be. “Perfect fit! Was tha’ a good guess on my part or wh-” He toppled backwards as Baylee flung herself atop him, kissing him quite deeply. ‘Guess she likes it!’ he thought.

 

~*~*~

 

It was nearly nightfall when she came to the gates of Erebor.

No longer riding upon her pony, but walking alongside him instead, she had entered the city virtually unnoticed by the crowd around her. Not that they should know her; many of these people bore the blonde and brown hair of Dain’s folk. They had come out of the Iron Hills in the east to seek a new home. The dark haired folk of Durin also were also present, though their numbers not nearly as vast. Unable to stop herself, she smiled.

After hundreds of years and thousands of miles, she was home.

Her hood still drawn over her head, she walked through the busy city streets that had, at one time, been her playground. Passing by a building that had once been a bakery, she found it now to be a forge. Another building –this one having been a seamstress’ shop- was now a jewelry smith’s. For a moment, she stopped and looked up, way up, at the vast ceiling and its chandeliers and torches.

Fire and smoke clouded her vision. Screaming filled her ears and the roar of the dragon deafened her.

Closing her eyes, she let out a quiet sigh. Upon opening them once more, all had fallen peaceful. The dragon was long gone and the people content in their daily lives.

She began to walk again, leading her pony down a darkened side-street. This path would take longer to reach her destination, but she did not want her and her pony to cause any disruptions in the market –especially at this hour, when dealers and storeowners were hurrying to close up shop for the night. It also brought some calm to her, knowing that she still had a little while yet before she reached her journey’s end.

As they walked, the only sound louder than the distant murmur of the crowded market was the quiet cluh-clink of the pony’s horseshoes as he walked. The sound echoed off the walls around them, betraying their presence to a pair of guards who stood at the entrance of an unassuming doorway. When she approached, they held up their hands, ceasing her.

“I am sorry, my lady, but it is too late to enter the Tombs,” one of them told her.

She lowered her hood, looking at the two dwarves with piercing blue eyes. “Surely, you could allow an exception for one who has traveled so far?” she asked, her voice soft.

Upon seeing her face, the two dwarves suddenly lowered themselves to one knee, their fists held over their hearts. “You may pass, my lady,” they chorused. “We will watch your pony.”

“Thank you, kind sirs.”

The door was opened for her and she passed down into a dark staircase, lit only by lamps made with the strange, glowing fungi of Erebor. As she reached the bottom step, she was greeted by the sight of a long tunnel. On either side of her lay the tombs of Erebor’s previous kings. Through this hall she walked, passing by smaller, branching corridors until she came to a great, central chamber.

In the center, stood the marble effigies of Thorin Oakenshield and his nephews, Fíli and Kíli. In their stone hands, they clasped the real weapons they had born in life: Fíli, his axe and swords; Kíli, his bow and blade; and Thorin, Orcrist and his oak-branch shield. So perfect was their likeness that she gasped, her hand covering her mouth.

Slowly, she approached the statues and her hand reached out, fingertips brushing against the cool marble of Thorin’s cheek. Her jaw quivering and the tears pouring from her eyes, she smiled at him. It had been so long since she saw his face, since she saw the faces of the two princes…her heart ached, but she felt the slightest bit of joy to see them once more.

“Do you remember the promise you made me?” she whispered. “You promised that you would reclaim our homeland; that would you defeat Smaug and unburden our people of the exile we were forced to endure. You told me we would be happy and we would live within the halls of Erebor once more.

“You were so confident, brother, so confident that you would be victorious that I couldn’t help but feel that you would return. That my sons would return to me and that we would be reunited, at long last, beneath the Lonely Mountain –in our home. But our family is cursed to have no joy.”

She bowed her head, her shoulders shaking from the anguish that she had kept hidden within her for decades. Pain and suffering not just for the loss of her brother and her sons, but for the loss of her husband, of Frerin, of her father, and of her grandfather…She had been strong for her people, for they had needed a leader when all others were taken from them.

But now, at long last, she could let her mask shatter.

“I was foolish, brother,” she sobbed, falling to her knees. “After all that had befallen our family, how could I let myself think that any sort of happiness would come of this?”

She looked up at the face of her brother, seeking some ounce of solace, but he was no more than a statue, staring into nothingness. “You three were all that I had left. Why did you have to be taken from me? Why did Mandos take my sons, my little lights in life, have to be taken from me, Thorin!? They hadn’t even seen ninety! They were children! My children!”

Burying her face in her arms, she threw herself upon the ground and wept.


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Look! I figured out how to put up illustrations! So, this chapter has one AND chapter 5 has an illustration now as well. Hope you guys enjoy!

Chapter Twenty-Nine

 

When Dís awoke, she found herself lying in a feather bed. Her cloak and boots had been removed and were resting some feet away. Brows furrowed, she began to sit up only to have her spine protest. Having spent most of the night asleep on a cold, stone floor had made her stiff and sore. Slowly, she pushed herself to sit upright and felt parts of her back pop back into place, bringing about some relief.

She did not recognize this place.

Judging by the size of the room and the richly colored silk bedding, she was in the home of a wealthy dwarf. The room was sparsely decorated, with a washbasin resting atop a dresser and her belongings sitting on the table. A doorway that led into a separate, private bathing chamber was covered by an elegantly beaded curtain.

She was just tossing the blankets back when there was a knock on the door. “Enter,” she called, though the caution was all-too evident in her tone.

The door opened and Dwalin stepped into the room. He wore a small, sad smile as he looked upon her. “I’m glad to that you’re awake, my lady.”

“Dwalin…It has been a while.” She returned the smile, though it faltered when she saw that he was missing an eye. “What happened to you? When you came to Ered Luin, you bore no such scars…”

“There…was a small incident involving Ori and a friend o’ ours,” he replied.

“I would not think that an incident involving the loss of one’s eye qualified as ‘small’,” she dryly told him. Standing, she walked over to him and cupped his face in her hands, lightly pulling him down to her level so she could better inspect the injury. “These were left by a warg,” she murmured, more to herself than to Dwalin.

He nodded, freeing himself of her grip. “It’s a long story,” he told her, “one that’s best told over an ale or two. You, however, have a story that I need to know. Why are you here, Dís?”

She turned away from him, her hands lightly gripping the edge of her sleeve. “There was nothing left for me in Ered Luin,” she softly explained. “My friends had gone and my family was slain. When you came to me five years ago and told me of all that had transpired, I knew that I had to return to my homeland. But there was still so much I had to do…” Closing her eyes, she let out a quiet sigh. “It was only recently that I was finally released from my duties as Stewardess of Ered Luin.”

“Was there anyone else with you?”

Shaking her head, she turned around to face him once more. “No. I would not allow anyone to come with me.”

“My lady, forgive my bluntness, but that was a foolish idea. The mountain passes are dangerous an’ you could have been attacked by bandits or goblins or-”

“I’ve done many foolish things in my life, Dwalin, son of Fundin, and traveling alone is the least of them!” she tersely interrupted. For a moment, she wore a look of defiance, but it quickly faded into one of shame and hurt. “Forgive me, my old friend. The journey was…long.” Turning away from him, she raised a hand to her forehead.

Dwalin looked at the woman with respect and with pity. He had known Dís since birth; she had always wanted to tag along with Thorin, Frerin, and him when they went to go play in the fields outside of Erebor. Her brothers, of course, had always refused to allow her to join –they were going to fight and hunt bugs and other such things that females would find ‘nasty’- and it had always been he who had coaxed the others into letting her join. Because of this, he had watched her grow into a capable woman who was not afraid to swing her fist –or blade- should the need arise.

To now see her standing before him, left so utterly helpless by the loss of her family, broke Dwalin’s heart.

Going to her, he set his hands on her shoulders. “You don’t need to hold back here, Dís. Balin an’ I are your friends. We won’t judge you for sheddin’ a tear or ten.”

A small smile graced Dís’ lips. “Thank you, Dwalin.”

He returned the look. “If I were in your place, I know you’d do the same for me.”

She nodded. “That I would. But now I must ask you something –How came you by me?”

At that, Dwalin rubbed the back of his neck and glanced away. “Truth be told, my lady, I followed you. I was comin’ into Erebor from Dale and I spotted Thorin’s cloak…”

As he spoke, Dís went over to the table where her cloak was neatly folded. Unfolding it, she ran the worn material through her fingers. “I’m surprised that anyone remembers what his cloak looked like,” she admitted.

“I traveled with him long enough t’ recognize his footfalls, my lady.” He set his hand on her shoulder and gave it a light squeeze. “Are you hungry? Balin’s not awake yet, but I can make some eggs an’ bacon if you’d like.”

Dís cocked her head. “Not awake yet? What time is it?”

“Not quite dawn,” he answered.

“Then I did not sleep for long…”

“Actually, my lady –you slept for two days.” He chuckled as he saw her cheeks turn bright red. “You traveled over two thousand miles; you clearly needed the rest.”

She shook her head. “I have been a burden-”

“Oh no you haven’t! If anything, it’s an honor t’ have you in our home,” he firmly told her. “Truth be told, we’d much rather have you here than Dain.”

Her brows furrowed. “And why is that? It should be an honor to host a king in one’s home.”

Dwalin glanced away, his voice falling quiet as if he were afraid of being heard. “He’s not _our_ king.”

 

~*~*~

 

_He streaked through the sky, his bejeweled scales lit brilliantly by the raging fires of Lake Town. So elegant he weaved his way through the air that he looked to be a kite –until he opened his maw and fire spewed forth, destroying more of the town. Smoke of pine and of cedar and of oak stung her eyes and filled her lungs, making her cough while the fire raged around her._

_People dove into the icy waters of the Long Lake in their attempts to flee the chaos and she nearly joined them if it hadn’t been for the quick tug on her arm of someone dragging her into a boat. She looked up only to see the ash streaked face of—_

_Now she was trekking alongside a mule, her body tired and aching as she marched along with the small coalition of men who traveled with Bard and the Elvenking to the foothills of the mountain. Behind them lay the smoldering ruins of Lake Town, where many of the people remained in hopes of salvaging together some form of winter shelter. Many times she stumbled, for her weariness had left her mind in a haze._

_Someone grabbed her shoulders and pulled her against their side. “Keep goin’, sweet one,” a gentle voice told her. “We’ll soon stop and you can rest then. But for now, you must keep going. Can you do that for me, sweet one?”_

_She nodded, forcing one foot in front of the other and doing her best to keep pace with the woman. “What’s going t’ happen to us?”_

_“I don’t know, sweet one. I honestly don’t know.”_

_Battle suddenly sprang into life around her. Orcs were everywhere, their shouts and the metallic ring of their weapons hitting against other weapons were all that she could hear. Panic filled her when she realized that she was alone. Her right ear was aflame with pain and she could taste blood in her mouth…and yet, something inside her told her to keep fighting –that if she held out for just a bit longer, everything would be alright._

_An orc charged at her and she raised her shield arm, deflecting his blow and giving her the chance to strike at his stomach. Right behind him, however, another orc dashed forward, wildly swinging a club. She hadn’t enough time to block the blow-_

_A shield blocked the club and a sword took off the orc’s head. “Remind me t’ have you work on your footwork later, sweet one. Now, keep your back t’ me! The battle is almost won.”_

_Doing as she was told, she continued to fight. Exhaustion made her limbs heavy and pain seemed to come from every part of her body, but she continued to fight until there was only a single orc before her. She shouted something –she could never recall what, exactly- and lunged forward, stabbing her sword at an angle up through its ribs, watching as it stumbled back, the blade still lodged in its chest._

_Something slammed into her back and she toppled forward. For a moment, she was unable to move, though she could feel a flood of hot liquid soaking into her hair and trickling down the skin of her face and neck. At first, she thought nothing of it and forced the thing on her back off of her as she got to her knees. Rubbing her face, she didn’t care when she smeared the liquid over her cheeks –after all, it couldn’t be any worse than orc blood._

_And then she saw the pair of lifeless, green eyes staring at her. The mouth slightly agape in shock. The severed, blonde braid unfurling on the grass where a body should have been, its ends bloodstained. It was then she realized that what had fallen on her was a headless body and the liquid that had covered her was blood –not orc, but human. And the face that was staring at her…_

Baylee was thrashing about in her bed when Bofur ran in and her skin pale, coated by a thick, cold sweat. He raced to her side and grabbed her shoulders, trying to wake her from the nightmare and bring an end to her screaming. After a third, hard shake her eyes shot open and she pulled away from Bofur to look around, bewildered.

It wasn’t the first time he had witnessed one of her nightmare fits; she had four on the return journey from Rhûn. It was, however, his first time seeing her have such a bad one –the previous fits, she had merely tossed and turned while whimpering in her sleep. He watched as she covered her face, her whole body shaking as she quietly sobbed into her palms.

Cautiously, he reached a hand out, setting it on her shoulder. “Baylee?” he quietly asked. “Are you alright?”

“I don’t know,” she whimpered. She pulled her face from her hands, looking at him. Her eyes were full of fear from the nightmares.

Bofur crawled onto the bed and gently brought her into his arms. “Everything’s alright, lass,” he softly told her. He started to stroke her hair as he felt her grip his shirt. “Everyone’s safe an’ sound. There’s nothin’ t’ be scared of.”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice hoarse from screaming. “I-I can’t stop ‘em. I’m sorry.”

He frowned, looking down at her. “Why are ya sorry, love? O’ course you can’t stop ‘em; they’re nightmares.”

Baylee shook her head. “For wakin’ you. Sometimes I can wake myself up before she—before they end, but I couldn’t this time.” She buried her face in his chest, her knuckles white as she still held onto his shirt.

Bofur nuzzled her affectionately; he had taken note of how she had quickly corrected herself, but he knew better than to question it. Instead, he let his fingers of one hand run through her hair while the other lightly rubbed her back in slow circles. Kissing her temple, he shifted himself slightly so that his head wasn’t pressed against the edge of the headboard.

After a while, she sniffed and whipped her nose on the sleeve of her nightgown. “I supposed Bifur an’ Lovisa have left then,” she murmured.

“Why do you say that?”

“Elsewise, they’d be the ones in here.”

Lightly tilting her head up, he stole a soft kiss from her. “I’d be in here, even if they were here,” he quietly assured her. “Don’t you doubt that.” He gave her a loving smile and brushed some hair from her face. “Are you feelin’ better?”

She nodded, kissing his lower lip. “A little,” she replied, letting her head rest against his chest. “…Will ya stay the rest o’ the night with me?”

He felt his cheeks turn a bit red. “Aye, I will. But only because you asked so nicely,” he teased.

Baylee smiled, letting her eyes close. “We won’t tell Will or papa, though,” she joked in return. “Wouldn’t want them turnin’ you into a new bag or somethin’.”

At that, he outright laughed. “Don’t go scarin’ me now, lass! It was terrifyin’ enough havin’ your da’ half-glare at me over the dinner table even _after_ I made sure tha’ he was fine with us courtin’!”

She quietly giggled and nuzzled into him. “Oh, don’t worry…He wouldn’t actually do tha’. You make me happy an’ he won’t take that from me.”

He kissed her temple again before once again shifting his position; now he was properly laying down, Baylee held in the crook of his arm with her head atop his shoulder. “Good,” he murmured, resting his free arm behind his head. “Now let’s get some shut-eye an’ only have good dreams, aye?” He smiled down at her.

She glanced up at him. “…Can ya sing me a song?” she shyly asked.

“Anythin’ for ya,” he chuckled. “What song?”

“Any song, so long as it’s happy.”

Nodding slowly, Bofur mentally went through all of the songs he knew. He knew plenty of happy songs –it was mostly a question of how lewd the lyrics could get that made him think. After a few moments, however, he thought he had found the perfect lyrics; they came from an old song that he remembered his father singing to his mother.

 

_Come live with me an’ be my love,_

_And we will all the pleasures prove_

_That hill an’ valley, dale an’ field,_

_And all the craggy mountains yield._

_There we will sit upon the rocks,_

_An’ see the shepherds feed their flocks,_

_By shallow rivers t’ whose falls_

_Melodious birds sing madrigals._

_There I will make thee beds of roses_

_An’ a thousand fragrant posies,_

_A cap of flowers, and a kirtle_

_Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle;_

_A gown made o’ the finest wool_

_Which from our pretty lambs we pull;_

_Fair lined slippers for the cold,_

_With buckles of the purest gold;_

_A belt of straw and ivy buds,_

_With coral clasps and amber studs:_

_And if these pleasures may thee move,_

_Come live with me and be my love._

_Thy silver dishes for thy meat,_

_As precious as the gods do eat,_

_Shall on an ivory table be_

_Prepared each day for thee an’ me._

_The shepherds' swains shall dance an’ sing_

_For thy delight each May morning:_

_If these delights thy mind may move,_

_Then live with me an’ be my love._

Looking down at Baylee, he smiled; she was fast asleep with a smile on her lips.

 

~*~*~

 

By the time the sun had risen, Lovisa and Bifur were far from the Lonely Mountain and its foothills. They had left well before sunrise, knowing that it would be best to reach the eaves of Mirkwood before dark so that they could scout out possible boar trails. Currently, though, they were somewhere between the forest and the mountain and beginning to feel the toll of having left so early.

Bifur covered his mouth as he let out a large yawn. Beside him, he heard Lovisa chuckle. “What’s so funny?” he asked, amused as he looked up at her.

She grinned, glancing down at him. ‘Sun only just rose; tired already!’ she teased, letting the reins drape over the pommel of her saddle.

He let out a laugh. “Oh, ha, ha,” he chuckled. “I just need a bit to eat –then, I’ll be right as rain.” Turning, he reached back into his saddlebag and pulled out some jerky and a hard biscuit.

‘Am sure of it,’ she smiled. Pulling a flask from her hip, she flicked it open and took a small drink of the liquid inside. As it slid down into her stomach, it filled her whole body with pleasant warmth –a good thing, for the mornings were beginning to turn crisp as autumn settled in. She offered the flask to Bifur who cocked his brow at it.

“What’s in it?” he asked, taking it from her.

She shrugged and gazed back out at the lands ahead of them. A grin spread across her lips when she heard Bifur chuckle in surprise.

“I must admit, I wasn’t expecting dwarvish whisky,” he told her, offering the flask back.

‘Need something to keep awake!’ She wore a cheeky grin as she signed to him. ‘Will need tonight when tracking.’

He nodded in agreement. “So…how big do the boars around here get? The ones in the hills of Ered Luin were seldom taller than my elbows.”

‘Biggest one that have seen was taller than me. Biggest one _killed_ was tall as you.’

“You’re lying!” he gaped.

‘No,’ she signed, shaking her head. ‘Have plenty food here. Everything big in Mirkwood. Big trees, big deer, big boars…big egos.’

At that, Bifur burst out laughing. “I’ll second tha’!” he cackled. “Their dungeons aren’t so big, though.”

She cocked her head. ‘Have been in Mirkwood dungeons?’

“Aye –when Thorin’s Company was on our way to Erebor. We had been followin’ the Old Forest Road, but…well, shenanigans ensued and we ended up half starved. Three times we tried to _politely_ ask the elves –who were off having parties- if we could have food, but they would have none o’ it. They tossed us in jail. I don’t remember quite how long we were in there, but we were eventually broken out by our burglar.”

‘Nori?’

He shook his head. “No, our burglar was a hobbit.”

Her eyes brightened. ‘Little fellow, big feet?’ Bifur nodded as he took a bite out of a piece of jerky. ‘Remember him! Polite little thing; was sick.’ She glanced down at Bifur, who was still chewing. ‘Why Nori not burglar?’

“Why, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Bifur innocently lied. He didn’t want to betray his friend’s criminal past, after all.

She gave him a dry look. ‘Know he was thief once. Have seen him use thief cant; remember him stealing clothes for us.’

Bifur let out a defeated sigh; he had never been a good liar. “Nori _used_ to be a bit of a thief, yes, but not anymore. He’s trying t’ make an honest living with his brothers –especially now that he’s got Zori to watch over.”

Lovisa’s brow rose, a small, knowing smile. Even though she had known Nori for just a few months, she could easily tell that he had been more than ‘a bit’ of a thief in his past. It didn’t bother her much, however –probably partially due to her mother having been a thief as well. She knew quite well that, sometimes, good people made poor decisions and she was rather sure that that was the case for Nori.

“Is the any other game besides boar and elk in the forest?” Bifur asked after a few moments of silence had passed.

‘Not really. Are rabbits, pheasants, turkeys…that it. If hunt rabbits, only hunt northern rabbits. Southern rabbits could be of Rhosgobel. Too fast!’

Bifur scratched his beard; the name sounded familiar to him, but he couldn’t quite place it. Shrugging it off, he took a bite out of his biscuit. Truthfully, he was much more tired than he was letting on, but he wasn’t about to let Lovisa know. After all, he had once been a hunter; a few early mornings wouldn’t do him any harm. If anything, they would do him good –he had been a bit lazy of late, idling his days playing with Bombur’s children or carving little toys for them.

Lovisa, on the other hand, had been as busy as ever. On top of taking care of Baylee, she spent time helping Gerdi cook meals and clean dishes, as well as did much of the shopping. He had asked her once why she did so much work when she was also there to relax and finish healing; she had only given him a coy smile and set a bowl of soup in front of him before hurrying off to go get Baylee. She never seemed to take a break…

 

~*~*~

 

“So you mean to tell me that you have spent more time in the city of men than in the city of dwarrows?”

Dwalin leaned over, filling Dís’ mug to the top with steaming tea. “Well…up until last spring, I spent all my time in Erebor.” He set the kettle back atop the metal cooking rack before lightly prodding a skillet full of scrambled eggs. Dís had always preferred her eggs scrambled for some reason. “I paid Dale a visit for a few days an’…well, haven’t left it much lately.”

“Other than that unexpected trip to Rhûn?” She caught a plate as Dwalin tossed it to her, setting it down on the table just in time to catch a second dish. Setting this one down as well, she reached over and added a bit of honey to her tea.

“Aye, other than that,” he told her. Grabbing the skillet, he brought it over to the table and filled Dís’ plate with eggs; a hearty serving of crispy bacon soon join them. “It’s been a bit…odd the last few months, to say the least.”

She watched as he grabbed an egg and, with surprising delicacy, tapped it on the edge of the pan. “It certainly seems like it has been. You had never been the sort to remain amongst humans for any length of time; hearing that you now spend the majority of your time with them is quite a surprise.” She blew on the top of her tea before risking a small sip –it wasn’t quite sweet enough, so she added another dollop of honey. “Why don’t you tell me how you lost your eye? We may not have ale, but a mug of tea can be just as good to drink during tales of adventure.”

Dwalin cracked four more eggs into the pan, being quite careful to not let their yolks break. “I guess that is true,” he mused. “Ori and a friend o’ ours had gotten kidnapped by a band of raiders.”

“Was this friend human?”

He nodded. “Aye, she’s human –a dwarrow sized human, though.”

There was mild surprise on Dís features. “Not only a human, but a _female_ human?” she chuckled. “And this coming from the dwarrow who proclaimed that humans – _especially_ females- were weak and shouldn’t be bothered with!”

“Well, Baylee’s proved me wrong,” he admitted. He sat down with his plate of eggs and bacon. “She kept Ori safe while they were kidnapped; cost her two fingers an’ almost her life, though.” Cutting up some of the eggs, he smeared the yolks on a few pieces of bacon. “Anyway, Bofur, Bifur, Nori, Baylee’s brother, Will, a half-dwarrow named Lovisa, an’ I set out after them. We met up with some Dorwinion rangers an’, thanks to Lovisa an’ the rangers, found the city the raiders lived in.”

“Raiders, living in a city?” She plucked up a piece of bacon and folded it in half before taking a large bite out of the middle.

He nodded. “Whole city full o’ them. They were all female, too –any males were slaves or concubines.”

“Sounds like a wonderful place.”

Dwalin frowned until he saw the smile on her lips. “Anyway, thanks t’ the rangers and a stroke of luck on Baylee and Ori’s part, we managed t’ get them out of the city. We didn’t get too far, though –the raiders came after us with all their pet wargs.”  He shook his head at the memory. “Durin’s beard, was that a battle…None o’ us got out unscathed, save for Nori’s adopted son…”

At that, Dís frowned. “Nori? As in Nori of the Northern Mountain, one of Ered Luin’s greatest thieves?”

Rubbing the top of his tattooed head, Dwalin glanced away. “Well, he’s not so much a thief anymore…”

Dís suddenly stood up, slamming her hands on the table. “Thorin took _him_ on the quest!?” she cried.

“To his credit, he was a great asset-”

“But it was foolish of Thorin! You of all dwarrows should have prevented him from joining the Company!” She sat back down in a huff. “Surely he’s been arrested?”

Dwalin shook his head. “He earned a full pardon –I’ve kept my eye on him, I swear that t’ you, my lady. I swear upon the beards o’ my ancestors that he’s changed for the better.”

“He had better, otherwise I will have your beard shaved off and turned into a belt,” she threatened.

“As I said, he adopted a wee bairn, so that’s most definitely an improvement.”

She shook her head, sighing. “Durin help that poor child…” she murmured before eating some of her eggs. “So tell me of this human woman –Baylee, did you say her name was? How did you come to know her?”

“Well, her an’ her family owns a wonderful inn in Dale,” he explained. “The Full Tankard –an’ they certainly live up t’ the name. Don’t think I ever had an empty mug there.” He quietly laughed, shaking his head again. “Good food, too. Wonderful people, all o’ them. Warren and Will are twice my size; they’re the size o’ small trees. Baylee’s small, though –scarcely taller than me. Sweet as a wildflower, but she’s a fighter, that’s for sure.” Not caring how hot his tea was, he guzzled down half of it.

“I am glad to hear that you have lost some of your prejudices against humans,” she told him. “There are many in this world who a worthy of being friends with our kind.” She moved to take a drink of her tea.

“Oh, Baylee’s certainly more ‘n a friend to Bofur,” Dwalin muttered. He thought (and hoped) Dís hadn’t heard him, but when she spluttered in her tea, he froze in embarrassment.

“This woman is _courting_ a dwarrow?” she gaped.

Again, Dwalin rubbed the top of his head. “Aye…Bofur, as a matter of fact.”

Her features softened into a tender smile. “He found love again? That’s wonderful!” She dabbed at her chin and beard with a napkin, sopping up the tea that had spilt. “After his fiancée was killed, I feared he wouldn’t find happiness again. Does he still make toys?”

“Aye. He an’ Bifur have a toyshop in Dale as a matter of fact.” He shoved the last bite of egg and bacon into his mouth, chewing it slowly.

“Oh, good! I will have to pay them a visit…I remember the toys they had made for the boys. Fíli and Kíli would spend hours-” She suddenly fell quiet, casting her gaze away from the dwarf across from her. She barely acknowledged it when Dwalin gave her hand a comforting squeeze.

With a small sigh, he stood up and took the empty plate from her. “They’ll be delighted t’ see you, my lady,” he told her as he walked across the kitchen. “Especially Bombur. I’m sure he an’ Gerdi will prepare you a feast o’ all your favorite foods.” He was trying his best to take her mind off her fallen sons, though he knew it would be almost impossible. “Why, Balin was saying just at dinner that he’ll have to bring out his best mead.”

“Correction, brother –I’ve already brought it out.”

The two dwarves turned around, seeing Balin in the doorway. He wore a smile as he looked at Dís before bowing low. “My lady, I am glad to see you’ve awakened. I’m sorry for the unattractive accommodations, but Dwalin an’ I don’t get visitors very often.”

“They’re fine, I assure you.” Dís rose to her feet and went over to her old tutor, giving him a large hug. “It is good to see you again, Balin!” Leaning back, she looked over the elderly dwarf, a smile on her lips. “Your beard has gotten quite a bit longer since I last saw you.”

“And yours is as beautiful as it ever was, my lady,” he smiled. “I see Dwalin’s managed to cook some food; I hope it wasn’t too horrible.” They laughed as Dwalin shot him a not-so-polite retort.

“It was delicious, I assure you,” she told him. “He’s gotten much better over the years; he no longer burns the eggs. At least, none of my eggs seemed to be burnt.” She cast a small smile towards Dwalin, a rare twinkle of playfulness in her eyes.

Balin chuckled and went over to the counter, grabbing a large knife. He used its point to pry the cork from the bottle of mead and, without needing to look, caught three clay cups as his brother tossed them over. “I’m sorry I wasn’t awake sooner; these past few years of peace have made me a bit lazy, it seems.” He filled each cup halfway with the mead; since it was still morning, he didn’t want to indulge _too_ much.

“Your hospitality is most welcomed, old friend,” Dís told him as he handed a cup to her, “and certainly has not cooled over the years.”

Balin smiled broadly. “Of course not, my lady –least of all for you, though I must say it was quite the surprise when Dwalin returned with you slumbering in his arms.”

Her brow rose in amusement. “You make it sound as if I were some princess from a child’s tale, Balin.” She took a sip of the mead. “Mm, this is a fine vintage! Dorwinion mead, is it? About ten years?”

“It is!” he chirped. “You’ve always had a knack for guessing a drink’s age.” He tossed his mead back in a single, celebratory shot. Dwalin did the same, both males letting the alcohol fill their stomachs and warm their bodies.

Dís, however, continued to sip hers. She was still a bit tired and did not want to over-indulge, especially when she only had a bit of eggs and bacon in her stomach. “Is there anything I can do to repay the kindness the two of you have shown me –and, no doubt, will continue to show me?”

Balin shook his head. “No, my lady Dís,” he told her, a hand resting on her shoulder. “The only thing you need do is rest. At long last, you have come home.”

 

~*~*~

 

Sanna wandered through the mansion, trying to find someone who would play with her. Buruz and Grid were off at their lessons for the day with Balin and Edda was still much too small to play –let alone talk. She was the most boring sister in the world, thought Sanna, and her crying was annoying. But, babies cried a lot because they couldn’t talk; they could get away with more things because of that. If she cried, she’d either get a scolding or a small kiss on whatever minor injury she had gotten and sent on her way.

She headed for the kitchen, where she knew she could get a snack if her father was cooking. Bombur, however, was out and her mother nowhere to be found. There was someone in the kitchen, though the young dwarrowlings hadn’t expected to see her in there. Baylee stood at the sink, propped up on her crutches as she washed a few dishes. Sanna knew quite well that she wasn’t supposed to be doing such work; she was hurt and was supposed to rest.

“Mama said no do that,” she told the human, her tone scolding.

Baylee turned and smiled down at her. “Don’t worry, little one –I’m just wiping the crumbs off of them.”

“Mama said no do dishes,” she repeated, plopping her hands on her hips in a mimicry of her mother. “Are hurt.”

Baylee couldn’t help but laugh at the child’s firmness. Plucking up a towel, she dried the last dish and set it aside to properly dry. “There, no more dishes. Am I still in trouble?”

For a moment, Sanna was quiet and Baylee knew that, inside her little seven year-old mind, the pulleys and gears were turning. “No trouble if get seed cake,” she proudly declared. She wore a smug look, as if she had managed to back the human into a corner.

“A seed cake, hmm?” Baylee giggled. “Have you had your lunch just yet?” She knew full well that Sanna hadn’t had lunch; none of them had due to all the cooks being out and about.

The little girl looked crestfallen; she knew she couldn’t lie her way out of this one. But, then, she remembered a meal that her father had taught her about…It was a meal he had learned about while he was away, being a hero. ”Is elevensies!” she proudly proclaimed.

“Elevensies, is it? And just what is elevensies?”

“Elevensies is…Elevensies is –is hobbit food. Yes. Elevensies is hobbit food.”

Baylee glanced past the girl; Berez had come into the kitchen, though his little sister had yet to see him. “Well, if elevensies is hobbit food, I’m afraid there’s no elevensies here,” she told the little girl, watching as Berez tried to not laugh. “There’s only dwarrow food here!”

Pouting, Sanna crossed her arms over her chest. “Noo! Hobbits eat elevensies.” She suddenly let out a shriek and giggled as Berez snatched her up and tossed her into the air. “Ganagif! Ganagif, Berez!” she squealed as he tossed her again.

“Is this little badger trying to get a snack before lunch again?” he asked, tossing his sister a third time. This time, he caught her by the ankles and dangled her upside down.

“Aye,” Baylee told him. “If I didn’t give her a seed cake, she’d run off an’ tell your mother that I was doing some dishes.”

“Was she now?” he laughed. Looking down at Sanna, who was grinning innocently, he shook his head. “Learnin’ how to blackmail people now? Who’s been teaching you that o’ all things? Mr. Nori?”

“What blackmail?” she asked, her brows furrowing.

Berez righted her, but didn’t set her on the ground just yet. “Something you don’t need t’ know about, missy.” He glanced back at Baylee. “She wasn’t bein’ any trouble, was she?”

Baylee shook her head with a smile. “None at all, I promise.”

“Berez, play with me,” Sanna pouted. “Am bored.”

He gave her a pitying look. “Sorry, little one –I’ve got to get lunch started. Why don’t you go see if Biriz wants to play?”

She shook her head, braids flying left and right. “He never play. Only want fight!”

“I’ll take her,” Baylee told Berez as he set his sister on the ground. “Maybe I can amuse her with a story or somethin’ until l-”

Sanna started hopping in excitement. “Story! Wanna hear story!” she cried, clapping her hands.

Berez snorted. “Oh dear, I don’t think she likes that idea at all…” he joked.

“Oh, not in the least,” Baylee giggled. “Come along, little one. Let’s go out t’ the garden, alright?”

“Thanks, Baylee,” Berez chuckled as the two females started to leave the kitchen. “I hope she doesn’t ask you too many questions,” he called after them, but it was too late –they were out in the garden.

Baylee hobbled her way along behind Sanna, who skipped ahead. “Why don’t ya find us a nice mossy spot t’ sit?” she suggested. “Somewhere nicely lit.”

“Not hard,” giggled Sanna. “Good place under big, green crystal. Just around corner!” She bolted some paces ahead only to stop nearly a large, glowing stalagmite. Dancing in place, she waiting for Baylee to catch up to her. “When can walk again?”

“Probably not for a few more weeks,” Baylee answered. “It was a big injury I had.”

“Uncle Bof say warg bite.”

She nodded, catching up. “Aye, a warg tried to take a bite out o’ me,” she explained, “but I didn’t taste good, so it spat me back out.”

Sanna scrunched her nose up and scratched her fuzzy chin. “Because human. Humans icky tasting.”

Baylee cocked her brow, amused. “Have _you_ ever tasted a human?”

“Ew! No!” she giggled.

“Then how do you know we’re icky tasting?”  She cracked up as the little girl stared at her, baffled. “I’m teasin’, little one. I’ve never tasted human –an’ I don’t plan on it, either.”

She nodded affirmatively. “Me neither. Icky.” Walking forward a ways, she plopped down atop a mound of glowing moss, waiting for Baylee to ease herself down as well. “Baylee?”

“Hmm?” Baylee did her best to hide a wince when her side twitched in protest.

Sanna tilted her head in a curious fashion as she watched the human sit and adjust her skirt to make sure everything was proper. “Are married to Uncle Bof?”

Even in the dim light, the darkening of her cheeks was evident. “No, little one, Uncle Bofur an’ me aren’t married,” she answered.

She didn’t seem pleased by her response. “Oh…but…kiss.”

“Just because we kiss doesn’t mean we’re married,” Baylee gently explained. “It means we’re in love, though.”

“Going to marry Uncle Bof?”

Baylee didn’t really know how to respond to such a question; she also cursed the innocence of children. “I…I don’t know, little one. We haven’t really courted long enough t’ know if we want t’ marry each other.” She shifted slightly and, before Sanna could question her further, she asked, “So what sort o’ story do you want me to tell you?”

Her eyes brightened. “One with trolls!”

“With trolls?” she laughed. “Alright, alright…let me think. I know a fair few with those nasty things in ‘em.” She playfully tapped her chin as she thought, glad to be off the subject of marriage. Too many people were bringing that up with her of late; she didn’t need a child wondering about her love life to top it off. “Hm. I think I know just the one. Have ya ever been told the story o’ Thúnor?”

Sanna shook her head. “No.”

“Well then, I’ll have t’ fix that, won’t I?” She motioned for Sanna to sit in front of her and, when she had done so, she began to finger-comb the child’s fiery hair.

 

            _‘Long ago, when realm o’ Eriador was still young, there was a large farming village near the eaves o’ an ancient forest an’ for many years, they lived in peace. The village was well known for their delicious drinks that they would serve once a year for their fall harvest. Its chief at the time, a man by the name o’ Thúnor, was known t’ be especially gracious an’ would throw a large feast at the end o’ every harvest so that his people could taste the fruits o’ their labors._

_One year, durin’ a particularly bountiful harvest, trouble arose. On the eve o’ the feast, a troll came out o’ the forest an’ demanded t’ speak with Thúnor. The people, fearing that the troll would eat them should they disobey, brought him before their chief.  (_ ‘Not turn stone?’ ‘Guess it was nighttime!’)

_“What business does a troll have in my village?” asked Thúnor._ (Sanna giggled at Baylee’s ‘man voice’.)

            _“Every year, you hold a bloody great feast,” said the troll. “I can smell the food that is made from my cave an’ it makes my stomach growl, for I eat only squeaky birds an’ bony rats. I can smell the beer flowin’ an’ it makes my mouth water, for I drink only dirty water an’ rancid ale. I can hear the singing o’ the people an’ it makes my ears ring, for I listen only t’ the screams o’ terror an’ the cries o’ pain.”_

_“So what reason have you t’ be in my village?” repeated Thúnor, for he knew that trolls were slow an’ dull-witted._

_“I want t’ attend your harvest feast!” demanded the troll._

_Thúnor knew that a feast amongst humans was no place for a human-eating troll, let alone a human-eating troll who had ringing ears an’ an aching head. “That is not possible, for you are a troll an’ not only do terrify my people, but you would eat them the moment I turned my back,” he told the troll._

_“Then I would have you bring me a drink so delicious an’ so strong, that it would let me sleep through the feast so that my ears will not ring an’ my head will not ache!” roared the troll._

_“And if I cannot do that?”  Thúnor asked._

_“I will come t’ your feast an’ devour your village before you so that you may watch them suffer,” the troll threatened. “In two night’s time, you will bring me that drink ere you start your feast so that I will not suffer.”_

_Before Thúnor could respond, the troll turned an’ left the king in his hall. Thúnor was a master at the art o’ brewing, so he knew there was no drink known t’ man or elf that was potent enough t’ render a troll unconscious. As he paced in his hall, he pondered over the possibility o’ poisoning the drink –but trolls were immune t’ most potions an’ poisons._

_Knowing that this was not a problem he could solve on his own, Thúnor left his hall an’ went t’ the edge o’ the village. It was here, in a small, lonely home, that the village’s wise-woman lived with her pet bull an’ her pet ram._

(‘Rams mean…butt people. Rude animals…’)

_“What brings you, o chief Thúnor, t’ my home so late at night an’ with so grim a face?” asked the wise-woman._

_“A troll has made a threat upon our beloved village,” he told her, “an’ unless I make for him a brew so delicious an’ so strong that he is left in a slumber durin’ our feast, he will eat us all.”_

_The wise-woman shook her head, not liking this news. “There is no such brew made by humans or by elves that can make a troll drunk.”_

_“Then I need a way t’ make it stronger than any ale or beer that I can brew. Please, o wise-woman, tell me that there is a way that this can be done.”_

_For many long minutes, the wise-woman was silent. She thought an’ she thought, going through all the potions an’ chants an’ spells that she knew, but nothing she could think o’ would work t’ put a troll t’ sleep. There was, however, a way t’ enhance a brew’s potency._

_“You must take a horn from my goat an’ a horn from my bull,” she ordered Thúnor. “Boil the ram’s horn for a day an’ a night in pure, clean water. Boil the bull’s horn for a day an’ a night in the strongest ale you have. Take heed! When you put the horns in their cauldrons, you must not any liquid at all, no matter how empty the pots may seem!_

_“When a day an’ a night have passed, rub the inside o’ the ram’s horn with the roots o’ fresh yarrow an’ the inside o’ the bull’s horn with the petals o’ a blackened rose. When you have done this, slide the bull’s horn into the ram’s horn an’ put them into the red coals o’ a fire for half a day. This you may replenish as needed.”_

_“Won’t the horns burn if left in the fire that long?” asked Thúnor._

_The wise-woman shook her head. “When you pull them from the fire, they will have fused into a drinking vessel that becomes whosoever holds it. Should the drinker be a good man, he will consume a drink that tastes delightful an’ refreshes his spirit. Should the drinker be a bad man, he will consume a drink that tastes foul an’ dampens his spirit. If he proves t’ be o’ dark enough heart, the drink may even bring harm upon him.”_

_Thanking the wise-woman, Thúnor went into her yard an’ took a horn from her ram an’ a horn from her bull. He returned t’ his hall, where, when the sun rose, he boiled the horns in water an’ in ale. Many times he was tempted t’ refill the cauldrons, but the liquid within them never disappeared entirely until the sun rose the next morning, when there was nothing but the horns in the pots._

_He then rubbed the inside o’ the ram’s horn with yarrow root an’ the bull’s horn with the petals o’ a blackened rose. An’ then, taking the bull’s horn, he made t’ put it inside o’ the ram’s horn. At first, he believed the deed impossible –the bull’s horn was long an’ straight while the ram’s horn was short an’ curled in on itself. But lo! Softened by their long boiling, the two horns merged into one another almost perfectly. Into the red coals o’ a fire he set the fused horns an’ he tended t’ this fire for half a day, forsaking his meals so that he could make-_

Baylee laughed as the girl spun around and stared at her in horror. “Not eat meal!?”

“Nope.”

“Not right in head!”

_Into the red coals o’ a fire he set the fused horns an’ he tended t’ this for half a day, forsaking his meals so that he could make sure that no one disturbed them until the time was right._

_When it at last came t’ be time for him t’ present his strongest ale t’ the troll, he brought with him one o’ his knights, for he knew that if the horn’s magic did not work, he would be forced t’ fight the troll t’ death._

_“Have you brought me the brew that will make me sleep through your noisy feast?” demanded the troll, his big arms cross over his big chest._

_“I have,” replied Thúnor an’ he held aloft the drinking horn full o’ ale. “Here is your ale –it is one o’ my oldest an’ strongest vintages an’ certainly my most delicious.”_

_But the troll did not take it. “I want proof that this ale is as tasty as you claim. Have your knight take a drink so that I may know if I have been fooled or not!”_

_Thúnor gave a nod t’ his knight an’ his night took from him the horn. Taking a sip from the horn, the knight’s eyes opened wide –it was the most delicious thing he had ever tasted. Licking the foam from his mustache, he held the horn t’ the troll._

_“This is the most delicious drink that I have ever tasted,” he told the troll, “and I have tasted ales from the northern lands an’ from the southern lands. None can compare t’ what this horn now holds!”_

_The troll needed no second opinion. Swiping the horn from the man, he downed the ale in just two gulps_ (‘Could do it in one!’ ‘I’m sure you could.’) _. He let out a howl o’ anguish, for the drink was not delicious, but fouler than the foulest water an’ more rancid than the most rancid ale he had ever drunk._

_“You wretched, lying man!” he retched, his hands over his great belly. He began t’ swoon, his vision swirling an’ his head spinning. Over onto the ground he toppled an’, with that, the troll moved no more._

_Thúnor took back the drinking horn an’ he an’ his knight returned t’ the village, where they feasted t’ celebrate a bountiful harvest an’ the death o’ the troll. It is said that the horn became an heirloom t’ Thúnor’s family, passed down through the generations until the west became unsettled once more._

Sanna clapped happily. “Thank you for story, Baylee,” she chirped. Turning around, she gave the human a big hug, being careful to not accidentally knee her in the side or elbow her in the face (which she had a habit of doing when flinging herself onto people). “Was good story.”

“I’m glad you liked it, little one,” she told her. She sniffed the air, able to smell roasting meat. “It smells like Berez should have lunch ready soon. Why don’t ya go check on him an’ see if he needs help settin’ the table?”

She nodded quickly. “Alright! Are coming?”

“In a little bit. You go ahead.” She watched as Sanna skipped off before letting out a quiet sigh and flopping backwards. Rubbing her hip, she let out a quiet curse; it had started to ache in the middle of the story thanks to the uneven ground she sat on.

“You alright, âzying?”

Tilting her head up, she sat Bofur walking down the path, a basket of freshly picked mushrooms tucked under his arm. His sleeves were rolled up to his elbows and his hat was missing; Baylee could also just barely make out some dirt streaked across his face.

“I’m fine,” she replied. “My side’s just protestin’ a wee bit. I guess I sat too long while tellin’ Sanna a story.”

Bofur crouched down and, as she started to sit up, stole a kiss from her. He smelled of a mix of freshly turned earth and cherry tobacco. “Sorry t’ hear that,” he told her, kissing her cheek. “Anythin’ I can do t’ help you feel better?”

A cheeky grin came to her lips as she draped her arms around his neck. “A few more kisses wouldn’t hurt,” she teased, rubbing her nose against his.

Setting his basket down, Bofur complied and gave her a second kiss. He snaked his arms around her waist, drawing her closer to him. She quietly giggled against his lips when he almost lost his balance and fell forward onto his knees.

“Whoops,” he chuckled. Scooping her up, he brought her onto his lap and lightly nuzzled his nose into her cheek. “So ya told Sanna a story, eh?”

“Mhm.” She nestled her head in the crook of his neck, her eyes closing. “She was bored without Buruz an’ Grid around t’ amuse her, so I thought I’d take her off o’ Berez’s hands for a wee bit.”

Kissing the top of her head, he let out a quiet, content sigh. “Those three have taken quite a likin’ to ya…Sanna especially. I’m sure she’s going t’ be quite sad when you an’ Lovisa have t’ go back t’ Dale.”

“I’ll miss her, too,” she admitted, “but I’ll be sure to visit. As for Lovisa…Well, I don’t think she’ll be goin’ anywhere if Bifur’s not there.”

His brow rose. “Then I’m not the only one who notices how they’ve taken a shine t’ one another?”

She shook her head. “Oh, no. Gerdi an’ I were just discussin’ them the other day an’, when papa was here, he told me he was positive tha’ they’d be married by spring. It’s all too obvious tha’ Bifur’s in love with her an’ vice versa.” She lightly toyed with the end of one of his braids. “They’d be cute together; Lovisa deserves a family o’ her own. Valar know she’d be a wonderful mother.”

Bofur nodded in agreement. “Aye, an’ Bifur would be just as good o’ a father. After all, he was suddenly forced t’ raise me an’ Bombur an’ we turned out just fine. A bit on the rough side at times, but we’re good enough dwarrows.”

Kissing his cheek, Baylee smiled. “If by ‘rough’ ya mean ‘cuddly’, then aye, you’re right,” she lightly teased.

He grinned broadly. “Cuddly, eh? Clearly ya don’t know me well enough then, âzying.” He placed a sloppy kiss on her cheek, bringing about a fit of laughter.

Wiping the bit of spittle from her cheek, she looked at him. “What does ‘âzying’ mean?” she asked, head cocked.

“Flower o’ my heart,” he answered, reaching a hand up and brushing some hair out of her face. “It was the only thing I could think o’ that suits ya.”

Her cheeks reddened again. “An’ here I can only come up with ‘love’ for you,” she murmured, though she wore a tender smile.

He gave her a third kiss, his hand cupping her face and his thumb stroking the freckled skin. “I’m fine with that,” he breathed against her lips. He dared to lightly nip her lower lip, unknowingly sending a shiver down her spine. Kissing it ‘better’, his other hand began to lightly stroke the small of her back.

Snaking her arms around his neck, Baylee slid her fingers into his hair and gently gripped the thick locks. A soft groan left her mouth as she held him against her, having no intention of letting him pull away from the kiss. She copied him and nipped his lower lip, but instead of kissing it better, she timidly flicked her tongue against the ‘wound’. Bofur didn’t recoil like she had expected him to; instead, he grinned and ran his tongue against her lips as well.

 

~*~*~*~

 

The sun hung low in the western sky as Bifur was building a fire. Having dug a medium-sized hole in the ground, he piled dry twigs, moss, and long-browned grass in the bottom of it before putting larger sticks around it like a tower. He pulled out his tinderbox and, freeing the chunk of flint from within, started to strike it against the steal to make sparks fall onto a bit of reserved moss.

Behind him, Lovisa was tying her horse and Bifur’s pony to a tree, her eyes darting about. There weren’t many dangerous creatures in the northern part of Mirkwood Forest, but that didn’t stop her from being cautious; wolves and bears roamed about and they most certainly were not afraid of a dwarf and a half dwarf. Not to mention, swarms of bats would occasionally fly out of the forest so that they could do their nocturnal hunting.

“So, did you want to start tracking tonight?” Bifur asked, glancing up at her. Some of his sparks caught in the moss and he gently blew on them, urging them to become minute embers. “Or would you rather wait until tomorrow?”

She pulled a bit of jerky from her saddlebags and sat down across from him. ‘Tonight,’ she replied. ‘Not want risk losing good game.’

He nodded in agreement as he blew on the embers again. He gently lowered the moss into the bottom of the pit, fanning it with his free hand. A triumphant grin spread across his lips as he watched tiny flames beginning to dance. Soon, he had quite a pleasant fire going.

“Good idea,” he finally replied. “Look around for a few hours and then come back before midnight?” He glanced up at her as he brushed some dirt from the end of his beard.

‘Aye. Should find something. Is good time for boar hunting.’ She tore the piece of jerky in half and offered the large part to Bifur.

He accepted the offer and leaned back on his haunches. “I’m sure we’ll find a good one for Bombur an’ Gerdi.”

At that, Lovisa smirked. ‘Of course will find good one! Am not called White Huntress for no reason.’

Bifur couldn’t help but laugh. “You’re really called that?”

She nodded, wearing a proud smile. ‘Have hunted lands for many, many years.’

“I can believe it,” he smiled. “After all, you’re the one who did most o’ the tracking on the way t’ Rhûn.”

At that, she sighed. ‘Hardest trail have ever followed. Hope never do that again.’

“I’m sure you won’t,” he assured her. “Everyone’s good an’ safe now.”

She didn’t seem entirely too convinced by his words, but managed a smile regardless. It wasn’t because she _didn’t_ believe him –it was simply because she had known the Braddock family far longer than he and knew just how much trouble they could get into. Of course, the amount of mischief they could come up with had lessened over the years –mostly thanks to the war dampening their adventurous spirit.

‘Know…Warren was hunter once,’ she told him after a little while.

“Is that so? He doesn’t really seem the type.”

Lovisa nodded, popping the last bit of jerky into her mouth. ‘Before came to Lake Town, lived east of Misty Mountains. Was hunter there. Much skinnier then! Less beard, too.’ She chuckled and shook her head. ‘Was so long ago.’

He cocked his head. “How long? Warren can’t be more than forty-five, after all.”

There was a knowing twinkle in her eye. ‘Has been in Lake Town since I thirty-five. Am eighty seven.’

Bifur quickly did the math, having to use his fingers just a bit. “Fifty-two years!?” he gawked when he had figured it out. Lovisa nodded. “How in Mahal’s name can he be _that_ old? Is he part elf or somethin’?”

She shook her head and shrugged. ‘Don’t know. If he live that long, Baylee, Will live long, too.’

“Well, I guess that’s good on Bofur’s part –but if they do end up with long lifespans, I pity Adela. She’ll have t’ watch her love stay young while she grows older an’ older.”

Lovisa gave him a sorrowful smile. ‘Know that well. Mother was human. Father never stopped loving her; was always his jewel.’

“Love does have a habit of makin’ people forget about appearances,” he chuckled. He glanced over at her, finding her eyes fixed on the fire; the mournful smile was still on her lips. Bifur watched as a single tear slowly trickled its way down the curve of her cheek. He began to lean over with the intention of wiping it away, but twigs broke in the distance. His brows furrowing, he turned his head as dried leaves crunched and crackled underfoot of something heavy.

Lovisa rose up slightly and crawled to the base of the nearest tree. She peered in the direction of the rustling and narrowed her eyes, trying to make out what sort of creature was making the noise. Through the dim light, she could only make out its silhouette –but it was a very distinctive shape.

‘Boar!’ she signed, a grin on her lips.

‘How big?’ Bifur signed back, not wanting to disturb the creature, even if it was some distance away. He crawled over to their saddlebags, grabbing their hunting weapons.

For a moment, she signed nothing as she tried to judge the creature’s size. ‘Not tell,’ she finally signed as Bifur moved beside her. ‘Too far away.’ Taking her quiver and bow from him, she strapped the former to her back, making sure to pull the belt tight across her chest. Doing this pressed her right breast down, making it easier for her to aim the bow. She also drew an arrow, knock it.

Beside her, Bifur gripped his spear. Without a word, he started to stalk forward, doing his best to keep to the darker shadows beneath the trees. He also made sure to stay behind the trunks of the trees, knowing that they would give him cover should the boar charge at him.

Lovisa followed after him, though she stood upright and kept her movements slow. She was especially careful of how she stepped; with every stride, she slowly eased her weight onto her foot so that she would make the least amount of noise possible.

‘If we managed to get a boar tonight,’ she thought, ‘it’ll be one of my fastest hunts yet…Maybe we could even get some elk and pheasant to make it a true feast.’

Minutes later, she was crouching behind a holly bush, the boar no more than ten feet from her. Where Bifur had gotten to, she didn’t know; with their lack of verbal communication and attention focused almost solely on the boar, they had gone separate directions. Gingerly, she pushed back a bit of the bush only to silently gasp: The boar was enormous. He was almost as tall as her –being up to her chin- and had thick, sharp tusks nearly a span and a half in length.

The boar didn’t notice her. Instead, he grunted quietly as it used its nose to forage for roots and nuts in the earth of the forest floor. He used one of his great hooves to break through harder dirt and break up some of the roots before gobbling them down.

Ever so slowly, she raised her bow and took aim at its throat. It was a hard shot; the boar had his snout pressed into the ground and kept moving about, which hid his neck from view every few seconds. After what seemed like ages, the boar turned, allowing her a decent view. She was just about to release the arrow when the boar let out an ear-piercing bellow of pain.

The boar suddenly spun around. Lovisa watched in horror as Bifur was flung through the air like a sack of flour, landing some yards away. He had managed to bury his spear deep in the animal’s side, but despite the mortal blow, the boar was still able to put up quite a fight.

She let out a hoarse cry and stood up, firing an arrow into the boar’s hide, hoping to distract him. The boar, however, didn’t care about the arrow: His sight was set on the dwarf in front of him, who was only just starting to stir. He let out another thunderous bellow and lowered its head, wanting to kill the creature that had mortally wounded it.

Bifur quietly cursed and shook his head as he came to; he could feel blood trickling down his forehead. As he started to push himself up, he glanced up only to gasp in horror: The boar was charging at him. There wasn’t enough time for him to roll out of the way. He was staring death in the face.

There was a flurry of buckskin and Lovisa was suddenly in front of him. He couldn’t see the wild fury on her features as the boar slammed into her, but he could see the dirt being forced out of the way as soles of her boots dug into the earth. Blood cascaded like a waterfall from the boar’s head and throat as Lovisa dragged her knife through its flesh, slicing it wide open. With a loud grunt, she grabbed hold of both tusks and wrenched the creature onto its side.

All this had happened just inches from where Bifur lay.

Bifur stared at her in complete and utter awe.

“H-how in M-Mahal’s name…?” he stammered.

She didn’t answer him at first. Going to Bifur’s spear, she yanked it out of layers of flesh, muscle, and bone, not even caring about the disgusting squelching noise it made. She gave it a quick flick, most of the blood siphoning off of it thanks to the small channels carved into the metal, and offered Bifur a hand up. Taking her hand, Bifur shakily got to his feet.

‘Are alright?’ she signed, the worry still on her features.

He nodded. “I think so…just a couple of scratches. You?”

Lovisa’s lower lip wobbled slightly before she grabbed him by the neck of his tunic and pulled him onto his tiptoes, kissing him deeply. Bifur’s eyes shot open and he froze, unsure of how to respond to such a sudden act of affection. He thought for sure she would be upset that he didn’t kiss her in return –tears were beginning to pour from her eyes- but he soon found that that wasn’t the case.

‘Don’t ever scare like that again!’ she scolded when she pulled back. A hoarse sob left her throat. ‘Ever! Thought were going to die!’

“I promise,” he gently told her, managing a reassuring smile.

She leaned down and kissed him a second time –this time, he kissed her back, his arms wrapping around her waist. The second kiss led to a third and that to a fourth…then a fifth…


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely readers! This one took just a tad bit longer than expected to finish up, but that's because I've been pretty busy lately, what with Thanksgiving having been last week and me rewriting the end of this chapter three or four times. I just couldn't decide what sounded good, heh. So, I hope you all enjoy this chapter :)

Chamomile to bring calmness to mind and to body. Lavender to promote healing and to soothe the soul. Basil to renew strength and courage. Combined with the warm air of the room and the sound of wood tapping on wood, the scents worked quite well to lull Baylee into an almost meditative state. Every once in a while, she would feel a few seconds of pain when Dwalin had to switch combs or when Ori had to readjust his hand, but it was quickly forgotten as she watched the smoke of the incense sticks dance before her.

She was lying face-down on a flat pallet in the middle of a small room with Dwalin on her left, Ori on her right, and nothing but a length of black silk covering her bum and thighs. Dwalin was hunched over, his eyes focused on where the minute teeth of the ink-dipped comb pierced her skin. With each thwack of the mallet on the comb, the needles left a line of golden ink behind. Ori, too, was doubled over, though his job was to hold the skin of Baylee’s shoulder blade taunt, making Dwalin’s job easier.

Two days ago, when the delicate process was started, Baylee had almost regretted agreeing to a tattoo. Many tears of pain had been shed on the first day, but with Dwalin reassuring her that it was fine to cry and that the pain would soon fade, she had managed to endure. Now, on the third day, most of the pinpricks she felt were only a mild nuisance.

“How’re yeh holdin’ up, lass?” Dwalin asked as he dipped the comb into the bowl of gold ink.

“Fine,’ she replied, her eyes shut as she rested her head on her arm. “How’re youlads holdin’ up?” Her brow rose slightly as Dwalin began tapping away again.

“Well enough,” Ori replied, shifting slightly. He brushed some hair out of his face with his injured arm. “We’ll feel it tomorrow, though, that’s for sure.”

Dwalin chuckled. “Ah, lad, we’ll get a decent meal in us an’ then we’ll forget all ‘bout the pain,” he told him. “It’s Baylee here who’s goin’ t’ be sore for a while.”

She groaned. “I know. I tried t’ sleep on my back last night…needless t’ say, it didn’t work out well.”

“I told yeh it would be at least a week before yer sleepin’ on yer back again,” he mused. He set his current tool down in favor of a smaller comb. “I’m on the small one now, so yeh may want t’ grip somethin’,” he warned.

Gripping the edge of the pallet, she started to breathe deeply in anticipation for the pain the smallest comb brought. “Why does that one have t’ hurt more than the big ones, eh? After all, it’s got less needles.”

“That’s why it hurts,” Ori explained. “The less needles means that it takes Dwalin twice as many hits t’ cover the same amount of skin as the bigger sticks.”

“It also feels like it’s goin’ in deeper,” she mumbled. She allowed a tear to slide down her face, but didn’t allow herself to whimper.

“Probably because I’m usin’ the same force, too,” Dwalin suggested. Soon, he grabbed a clean cloth and wiped away the mixture of blood and excess ink. “There. Just one petal left now. Then we can clean up, put some ointment on it, an’ then get yeh dressed again.”

At that, Baylee giggled. “Just wait ‘til Bofur hears that you two saw me in the flesh. He’ll be madder ‘n a goat!”

Dwalin and Ori both snorted. “Well, at least he’ll know that neither o’ us let our eyes stray,” Ori laughed. “Anyway, even if I was into females, I don’t think I could make myself look at another set o’ breasts after Rhûn.” He shuddered at the thought and stuck his tongue out.

“Some are nice,” Dwalin admitted, “but only because they can add shape t’ someone. I don’t really see why so many males are so fascinated with ‘em.”

“Me neither,” Baylee agreed. “Then again, it’s not like I have much room t’ speak…”

Dwalin shrugged as he dipped the com into some crimson ink. “Eh, yer breasts are bigger ‘n they were a few months ago.” Ori shot him a small pout and Baylee’s brow rose. “What? She’s gained weight; parts o’ her are gettin’ plumper than they were when we first met.”

Ori begrudgingly nodded. “That is true,” he admitted. “And it is good see that you’re gettin’ plump,” he told Baylee. “You were rather…skinny before.”

Baylee rolled her eyes, but chuckled. “Trust me, I know,” she replied.

A cheeky grin came to Dwalin’s lips and he glanced up at Ori. “Anyway, Ori, yeh don’t have t’ worry ‘bout my eyes strayin’,” he reassured him. “Yeh’ve got the best bum I’ve ever laid eyes on –dressed an’ not.”

Ori’s cheeks turned dark red and his jaw fell slack; Baylee smacked her hands over her mouth in her best attempts to stifle her fit of giggles. He was lucky Dwalin was refilling his ink, because he reached over and smacked him across the shoulder. “You cad!” he gasped.

In the midst of their laughter, the door to the room opened and Gerdi poked her head in. “What’s got you all in a silly fit now?” she asked, stepping into the room. Tucked under her arm was a neatly folded pile of clothes.

“N-nothin’!” Ori stammered. “Just somethin’ Dwalin said is all.”

Gerdi’s brow rose; she was unconvinced, but decided to not press the matter. “Baylee, dear, I’ve brought ya a fresh change of clothes.” She walked over and set them down beside the pallet.

As she looked up, Baylee found that the clothing was not anything she had worn before. “Um…Gerdi, these aren’t mine,” she told her, unfolding part of the garment to find a sleeve made of velvet. She flinched as Dwalin began working on the tattoo again.

At that, Gerdi grinned. “Of course it is!” she chirped, leaning over to inspect Dwalin’s work. “I had some clothing made for ya, dear. I’m afraid the items ya brought with you had gotten a bit too…well, threadbare an’ shabby.”

Baylee stared up at her in shock. “Gerdi, ya didn’t have t’!” she gaped. “I mean, I’ve got more back in Dale-”

Gerdi wiggled her finger in an almost scolding manner at her. “They’re a gift –an’ not just from me, but from Bofur as well.” She watched as the human’s cheeks flared red and chuckled. “Also, we’ve having a highly important person over for dinner tonight and it’s imperative that ya look your best.”

Dwalin glanced up at the mention of this person. “Has she arrived yet?” he questioned, wiping away blood and ink for the final time.

“Not yet,” she replied. She leaned over, getting a better look at the tattoo. In the center of Baylee’s back, reaching from her hairline to just past her shoulder blades, Dwalin had given her an emerald-green spearhead, runes of strength and protection lining its outer edges. On either side of it was a flower with petals of red and gold, the center petals of each having a protective rune in them. “That’s a beautiful job, Dwalin.”

He began to rub a thin paste over the tattoos, a proud grin on his face. “Thank yeh, Lady Gerdi,” he told her. “I’m quite proud o’ it myself.”

Baylee tilted her head back, trying to peek over her shoulder –though it was a useless effort. “Can’t wait until I can see it,” she mused. A disturbed look came to her face as Ori sat upright, his back cracking and popping many times. “Er…ya alright there, Ori?”

Ori let out a sigh of relief. “Perfectly fine,” he grinned. “In fact, I feel better than I did five minutes ago, even though my arms are a wee bit tingly now…”

At that, Gerdi frowned. “That’s a sign o’ sitting far too long, Ori,” she lightly scolded. “Maybe I should have Buruz an’ Grid chase you around the garden a bit before Dis and Balin get here, hmm?” Helping the younger dwarf to his feet, she shook her head. “It’ll keep ‘em out of the kitchen, that’s for sure…” She started to help Baylee up.

“Ah, are the wee ones provin’ difficult for Lovisa an’ Bombur then?” Dwalin chuckled.

Gerdi sighed. “More so than normal. They know how rarely we get boar, let alone boar that’s been prepared by Bombur! Not only that, but the venison stew an’ roasted pheasants are also bein’ prepared.” She stood in front of the human, shielding her front half from the males.

Baylee’s eyes widened. “That’s a flat out feast right there! Will we be abled t’ eat all o’ that?”

Dwalin let out a hearty laugh. “Lass, we’ll be able t’ not only eat that, but also be wantin’ thirds!” He gathered up the tattooing items and set them in a tray. “D’yeh want any help clearin’ out the incense an’ pallet, Lady Gerdi?”

She shook her head. “No, I think I can manage,” she smiled, “so long as you didn’t spill any o’ that ink, that is.”

“Not a drop spilled,” Dwalin assured her. Hooking his arm around Ori’s shoulders, he led the younger dwarf out of the room. He also managed to steal a kiss from him, earning a small giggle from his lover as they left.

Gerdi smiled fondly and lightly shook her head. “Those two,” she mused. Turning back to Baylee, she realized that the young woman was admiring her tattoos in the mirror. “Well, how do you like them?” she inquired.

“I think papa is going to skin me alive,” she replied, wearing a large grin, “but I love ‘em! Look at all the detail Dwalin put into the spearhead! No wonder it took all day t’ do it. An’ the flowers! I wouldn’t have thought that red an’ yellow would show up thanks t’ all these freckles, but he proved me wrong.”

“And it’d be a right shame to cover up Dwalin’s hard work,” she plucked up the clothing from the floor, “which is why I had a few o’ your dresses an’ tunics made with low-cut backs. Now, let’s get you dressed, shall we?”

Baylee soon found out that wearing dwarvish clothing meant wearing layers –something humans normally did only in the winter. First, she put on a pair of brown hose. An underdress was next, this being white in color and quite plain, save for the lacings up the front. The dress came third; it was grass green in color (to match her eyes, Gerdi told her) with the edges being heavily brocaded with reddish-purple thread that had a metallic sheen to it. Throughout the velvet, the same shade of purple formed thin, geometric patterns –patterns that could really only be seen when the light caught the fabric just right. Over the dress went a sort of narrow, brown apron that was tied around her waist, also with brocaded hem work. Finally, she donned her boots.

“There we go,” Gerdi chirped, adjusting the tie around Baylee’s waist. “Now all that’s left is your hair and then we’ll have ya lookin’ like a proper dwarrow!”

Baylee laughed. “But I’m not a dwarf,” she reminded her.

Gerdi gave her a fond smile and lightly clasped her arms. “Maybe not in body, but I’ll tell you somethin’ lass: You’re definitely well on your way t’ being one in mind an’ spirit. How else could ya manage t’ win over my brother-in-law, hmm?” She gave her a playful wink.

“I always thought it was because I brought him food,” Baylee joked as Gerdi started to lead her out of the room. As they walked, the dwarf woman toyed with her hair, trying to think of the best way to pin it up. With the passing of another week, Baylee was now able to walk without the crutches, though she still had a bit of a limp –a limp that she was sure she’d take to the grave.

“I’m sure that helped, dear. After all, the Broadbeam clan certainly loves their food. But it takes somethin’ a bit more… _special_ t’ make Bofur fall as hard an’ fast as he did for you. Especially after what happened last time…” She lightly shook her head.

Baylee glanced over her shoulder. “What do ya mean?”

Gerdi cocked her brow. “He hasn’t told ya?” Baylee shook her head. “Well, then, it’s not my place t’ tell you. I suppose when he’s ready, he’ll tell you. But for now, pretend I didn’t mention it…An’ don’t bring up that I mentioned anythin’ to him, either. Like I said, when he’s ready, he can be the one to tell you.”

 

~*~*~

 

Will let out a heavy, discouraged sigh as he flopped down on the bed he now shared with Adela. It was only mid-afternoon, but he felt like going to bed and not waking up for three days. He had spent that amount of time trying to find a home for him and Adela that was near to the inn, yet big enough for them to start a family in, and still yet cheap enough for him to buy with what money he had saved up over the last couple of years.

It had been a fruitless search.

Well, _almost_ fruitless.

There was one building, just three doors down –it had, at one point, been a nice family home. Now, however, it had no roof and the second floor was rotted through. The walls were sound enough, as were the beams supporting the upper story; those had been made from cedar, thankfully. In fact, most of the city’s skeleton seemed to be cedar, yew, and chestnut –all woods that were quite rot resistant. If he hadn’t been so discouraged by his hunt, he would have been quite impressed by the people’s ingenuity…

“Will, you alright in there, lad?” His aunt’s voice drifted through the door. “You looked pretty down when ya came back.”

“’M fine,” he called back, though his voice was muffled by a pillow. It calmed him slightly, having his face buried in the cushion –it smelled like Adela.

Demelza knew by his tone that he was lying. Rolling her eyes, she opened the door and stepped into the room. As she saw him sprawled on the bed, she lightly shook her head. “House huntin’ not go well again?”

He turned his head so he could look at her. “Is it that obvious?”

She quietly chuckled. “Lad, you passed by your fiancée, who was holdin’ a large slice of cake for you. If that’s not obvious, then I don’t know what is.”

Will frowned. “Adela had cake for me?” Demelza nodded and he cursed under his breath.

She sat down on the edge of the bed and lightly patted his back. “Reminds you o’ when we had t’ find a place t’ build an inn, doesn’t it?” she quietly chuckled. “Searching all through the city for something big enough, but in good enough condition t’ not have to rebuild much…We were lucky when you found this gem. An’ I’m sure you’ll get lucky again and find somewhere that’ll need minimal work done t’ it.”

“I’ve searched all over the city,” he groaned. “Outside o’ what’s already been rebuilt is…almost scary. Aye, the foundations are sturdy an’ most o’ the weight bearin’ beams are in surprisingly good condition, but they need a _lot_ o’ work. Not t’ mention, money. All new wood, stone, an’ glass needs t’ be purchased. Not t’ mention the costs o’ nails, roof tiles, an’ whitewash.” He rubbed his face with his free hand. “I suppose I could cut some o’ the costs by forgoing the nails an’ usin’ joinery an’ pegs,” he mumbled.

Wearing a pitying smile, Demelza lightly rubbed his back. “Lad, you know you can stay here as long as ya like –there’s no need t’ rush into a house, especially with winter so close at hand.”

Turning over and sitting up, Will shook his head. “That’s the thing, though, Auntie: I know if I _don’t_ find us a place, then we’ll end up not leavin’ the inn.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” she asked, pale brow rising.

“Yes…and no.” He rubbed his face again. “There’s only so much space here in the inn for us. When we moved here, we built rooms for you an’ Uncle Richard, da’, Baylee, an’ me. That was fine until now. Adela an’ I are sure we want more than one child an’…an’ there just isn’t room for us t’ have a family here.” He looked at his aunt, a small, sad smile on his lips. “I guess ya can say I’m growin’ up.”

At that, she let out a laugh. “Lad, you’ve been grown up for quite a while,” she told him, “but we older folk haven’t really wanted t’ admit it just yet.” She reached over and gave his shoulder a slight, playful shove. “But look at you…almost a father an’ almost a husband. Seems like it was just yesterday tha’ I was having to wrangle you two an’ your cousins up for dinner or for bath time.”

He laughed. “An’ how during the summer, you’d catch us an’ throw us in the lake?” he grinned.

She shrugged. “Why heat up water when your mother an’ I knew the lake would do the same job?” she joked. Her features softened a bit as she recalled the times she and her late-sister had spent scrubbing four, gangly children who very much did not want a bath. “She’d be proud o’ you, you know. Your mother.”

“I would hope so,” he replied. “It’s hard sometimes, not havin’ her around anymore. The two o’ us could always ask her for advice on things…I mean, we love dad dearly, but sometimes the advice he gives…Well…” He scrunched his nose up slightly.

“If you’re referring to the time tha’ you an’ your sister came home with matching black eyes and bumps on your noggins, then aye, I know what you mean,” Demelza chuckled. “Éolynna always had a knack for that sort of thing. Back in Langhold, people were always asking for her advice. It drove mother insane because people were always coming to call and not a one was a suitor for either of us!”

“Well, that turned out to be a good thing, didn’t it?” Will smiled. “Otherwise, the two o’ you wouldn’t have come north an’ found dad an’ Uncle Richard, now would you?”

Demelza grinned. “That is definitely true. Can’t say our mother was too happy about it, but…Well, I love your uncle with all me heart an’ your mother certainly loved your father somethin’ fierce.”

He chuckled and shoved some loose hair from his face. “I can only hope that Adela an’ I have a love like theirs.”

“Oh, I think the two o’ you already do,” she mused. “After all, there is a baby in her tummy and you’re not quite married.” She cracked up as she watched Will’s cheeks turn bright red. “Ah, don’t worry. It seems to be a bit o’ a family tradition –though, I can’t say that it’s one I want Baylee to uphold…”

At that, Will snorted. “Baylee’s a wee bit more responsible than me in that respect.”

“Well, from the rumors I’ve heard, I certainly hope it stays that way.”

Will cocked his brow. “What rumors?”

“Oh, surely ya know –the ones about how Bard wants to court your sister? Almost the whole city knows by now thanks t’ Galiene.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Oh. _Those_ rumors.”

She tilted her head. “You don’t seem very excited ‘bout the idea,” she commented. “Even though I recall ya bein’ the one who had tried t’ bring them together when you were younger.”

“It’s not that, really. They would still be a good match,” he admitted, “but I just don’t think Baylee’s interested in him anymore. I mean, she’s done a lot of growing up the last couple o’ years –few months, even. Her tastes in men may have changed.”

“Maybe,” she chuckled as she stood, “but let’s face it –Who wouldn’t want t’ marry a king?”

Will watched as she left the room and he let out a sigh, though he wore a small grin; for some reason, he suddenly felt quite happy and oddly pleased. Why he felt that way, he couldn’t guess. “Baylee, that’s who,” he murmured.

 

~*~*~*~

 

“Ahhh…ganuh…aboo!”

“Oh, is that so?”

“Egha guh!”

“You poor, wee thing. Havin’ t’ take a bath like that.”

Zori giggled and grunted as he chewed on his favorite wooden horse. Baylee smiled before lifting him up and blowing a raspberry on his stomach, earning another, louder laugh. One of his hands let go of his precious toy, making to grab at the human’s nose, but she pulled back just in time. Having missed his target, he now reached out with both hands, the horse falling into Baylee’s lap. His small hands managed to grab hold of a few braids on the side of her head.

“Uh-oh, I’m in trouble now,” she chuckled as he started to tug on her hair. “Ow, ow –Zori, no. No pulling my hair. _No, Zori._ ” She did her best to pry his fingers off her locks, but it was useless; his fingers were too slimy from his drool.

Luckily for her, help soon entered the room. Seeing his nephew tugging on her hair, Dori lightly shook his head and went over, taking Zori by surprise when he started to tickle his sides. The child’s eyes shot open and he squirmed as he began to laugh. Her hair now free from his grip, Baylee leaned back and chuckled.

“Thank ya, Dori,” she told him. Plucking the horse from her lap, she handed it back to Zori before he was scooped up.

As Zori began babbling at him, Dori nestled him in the crook of his arm. “We’ve been tryin’ to get him off of the hair-pulling habit,” he replied, sitting down in a chair across from her, “but he’s been chewing on Nori’s beard for so long, it’s hard to break him of it.”

“Well, I would imagine’ chewin’ on fine silver beard clasps must be utterly delicious for the wee lad,” she chuckled. “An’ if not delicious, at least it’d feel nice when he’s teethin’.” Leaning forward, she grabbed Zori’s toes bare feet and began to tickle his toes. He giggled and kicked his legs, all the while trying to wiggle his toes away from her.

“Oh, most certainly,” Dori agreed with a small laugh. “Only the finest of teething toys for Nori’s child.” He looked up as Gerdi came into the room, Edda in her arms.

“Baylee, would ya mind looking after Edda for a few minutes?” she asked, brushing a stray lock of hair from her face. “Bombur needs my help in the kitchen and I don’t want this little one grabbing anything she shouldn’t.”

Baylee grinned. “Aye, that’ll be fine,” she replied. “Don’t think she can get herself in much trouble, after all.”

“Oh, you’d be surprised,” Gerdi smiled. She laid a blanket out on the floor before laying Edda on her stomach, as well as setting her dolly beside her. “I’ll be back in a tick.”

When Gerdi left the room, Dori grinned and set Zori on the blanket as well. “Do you want to play with cousin Edda?” he cooed. Both he and Baylee cracked up as the two infants looked at one another, their eyes wide in surprise.

Zori grunted and wiggled his legs behind him.

Edda grunted as well, though her whole body wobbled slightly.

Zori smacked the floor while beginning to babble.

Edda cooed, and managed to shove herself upright…only to roll onto her back. The two babies giggled at her fumble, though Edda quickly went quiet as Zori pushed himself onto his knees. He awkwardly started to crawl towards her.

“Aw! When did he start crawlin’?” Baylee asked, her eyes wide in pleasant surprise.

Dori grinned. “Just a few days ago,” he answered. “I had t’ show him how to pull himself along, but he’s a fast learner.” He ruffled Zori’s hair, which was pulled back in a two-inch braid –tiny compared to the six inches of hair Edda already had. “He’s a good lad, even if he can be much more odoriferous than most children.”

Baylee found it a bit hard to picture Dori, who she had learned was a very prim and proper dwarf, getting on the ground to show a baby how to properly crawl. “Odoriferous?” she asked, amused by the word. “Is that a real word or did ya make it up because o’ how stinky Zori’s toots are?”

“It’s a real word, I assure you,” he smiled. “Though, I’ve never heard the term ‘toots’ used in place o’ gassiness before. Is it a human term?”

“Sort o’,” she explained, giggling. “When Will an’ I were younger, mum an’ papa didn’t want us saying ‘farts’ because they thought it was a bit crude. So they told us they were called toots because they sounded like a horn.”

She looked down at the children in time to see Zori flop beside Edda and begin cooing at her. He reached over and lightly patted her hair, going ‘Ooh’. He continued to pet her hair, a smile on his face. Edda partially hid her face behind her dolly, giggling at the other baby.

“Oh, you cheeky lil’ flirt!” Baylee laughed.

“Just like his father,” Dori mused, his brow rising. “Only, Nori was a bit cheekier than that…I just hope he doesn’t pass it along t’ Zori.”

Baylee smiled. “I don’t think Nori needs t’ teach him anything –he’s cute enough t’ get attention all on his own.”

“Oh, he certainly is. I can’t take Nori with me to the market anymore because all the dwarrow dames have to stop and coo at him. I suppose that’s the elf blood in him, though…” He lightly shook his head before reaching down and rolling his nephew onto his back, beginning to tickle Zori’s feet. Zori burst out giggling, which startled Edda. She was just about to start crying when Dori chuckled and started to tickle her as well. “I’m sorry, did I pay attention t’ him and not to you, lassie?”

It was then that Zori let out a loud ‘Da!’ and stretched his arms out. Dori and Baylee looked up, seeing Nori tamping a bit of tobacco into the bowl of his pipe. Seeing his son wanting to be picked up, however, he chuckled and crouched down, holding his pipe between his teeth.

“What?” he mused, grabbing Zori’s feet and wiggling his legs. “You can’t possibly want me t’ pick you up when I held you all morning.”

“Da!” Zori cooed, trying to grab Nori’s hands.

“Aye, I’m your da’,” he smiled. He pointed at Dori. “Who’s that, then?”

“Do!” he chirped, waving his arm at his uncle.

“An’ this?” He pointed at Baylee.

“Ba.” A wide, cheeky smile came to his chubby face and he started to chew on his wooden horse again.

Nori grinned. “An’ her?” He pointed at Edda, who slowly reached a hand out, intending to grab his finger.

Zori’s reply was a grunt as he wrestled with the toy horse.

“Close enough.” He was going to pick up his son, but Edda grabbed his finger and tugged his arm towards her. “Whoa, you’re a strong one, Edda,” he chuckled. He frowned slightly as she began gumming on his finger. “Ew…”

Baylee giggled. “Too used t’ havin’ Zori chew on your beard?” she asked, seeing his mild look of disgust. She was about to scoop up Edda as she started to fuss, but Dori beat her to it.

“I think she’s just a bit jealous that there’s another child around t’ steal some o’ her attention,” Dori chuckled, sitting Edda up on his lap. Taking her hands, he started to ‘dance’ with her, which quickly worked to cheer her up.

Buruz and Grid suddenly ran into the room, giggling like mischievous schoolchildren (which is exactly what they were). Nori’s brow rose in amusement as he watched Grid duck behind the chair Baylee was sitting on and Buruz hide himself behind a curtain.

“I take it that Balin and Lady Dís are here then,” Nori chuckled, standing upright. His brother copied his action, propping Edda up on his hip. “Why are you two dwarrowlings hidin’, hmm?”

“Because Mister Dwalin here,” Buruz grinned.

“Want take him by surprise!” Grid added with a giggle.

The three adults didn’t have the heart to tell them that it was obvious where they were hiding. Instead, Nori changed the subject. “Have ya met Lady Dís yet, Baylee?”

She shook her head, rising to her feet. “No, though I’ve heard about her a number o’ times. She’s a princess, aye? Being that she is Thorin’s sister…”

“Technically, yes,” Dori told her as they moved towards the hall, “though due to various circumstances…” He rubbed the back of his neck, not quite knowing how to explain Dís’ situation to her.

“She would have inherited the throne had she challenged Dain’s rule,” Nori better explained, “but after the loss of her family and the fact that Ered Luin still needed a ruler, she chose not to. Dain is only partially related t’ Durin –our most famous king- whereas she’s a direct descendant. The _last_ direct descendant, unless –on the entirely off chance- she has another child. So, for now, she’s Lady Dís.”

Baylee nodded in understanding. “Understood.” She had been told that Dís was of noble blood, but she hadn’t been told _how_ noble Dís’ blood was. Now knowing that she was about to meet this woman left Baylee feeling quite intimidated. She didn’t know why she was so intimidated; after all, Bard was a king and she was good friends with him…

As they came into the hall, Baylee could just barely see Gerdi being tightly hugged by another female dwarf. She couldn’t see much of Dís, aside from the hood of her sky-blue cloak. Off to one side, she could also make out the snow-white hair of Balin as he wandered off to find his brother. Nori stepped aside, allowing her a better view. Straight away, Baylee could tell that this woman was of immense importance amongst the dwarves –and not just because of her rich clothing. The way Dís held herself was one of pride and of noble lineage. As she lowered her hood, Baylee could see that her hair was as black as night with streaks of silver like moonlight as a natural crown. Adding to the effect were dozens of silver and gold stars clasped throughout her thick locks.

As she handed her cloak to Gerdi, she caught sight of Baylee out of the corner of her eye. She turned to her and began to look her over. “So this is the human,” she spoke. “I expected you to be taller.” Her voice, Baylee noticed, was as rich as the earth. She began to circle around the human, taking in her entire appearance. The corner of her mouth rose slightly as she saw the tattoos on her back. “I see your weapon of choice is the spear. Are you proficient with any others?”

Baylee swallowed hard. “S-swords an’ axes, my lady,” she replied, “but I prefer avoidin’ battle at all costs.”

“That, Miss Baylee, is a good answer,” she smiled. Even though she did her best to hide it, Dís noticed that the human let out a sigh of relief. She turned towards Gerdi to spare Baylee the knowledge that she had seen. “Is the huntress still here as well?”

“Aye,” replied Gerdi. “She’s in the kitchen with Bombur an’ Bifur. Shall I get her?”

“I do not want to interrupt if she is busy. Dwalin had told me that you had had another child, but he failed to mention that she was such a pretty little girl!” She began cooing at Edda, who basked in the attention. “Three daughters in a row, Gerdi! Mahal certainly has blessed you, hasn’t he?” she smiled.

Gerdi grinned widely. “That he did, but I’m afraid she’s going to be our last one. Eight children is more than enough t’ keep an eye on these days, especially since Bifur an’ Bofur all but live in Dale now.”  She looked to Baylee, Nori, and Dori. “Would you three please set the table while I get Dís something t’ drink?”

Nodding, the three of them walked off into the dining hall. Gerdi offered Edda to Dís, who eagerly took her. “How long are you in Erebor for?” she asked, her speech going into Khuzdul. She led her friend off to a different part of the mansion by the elbow.

“Until it is my time to return to the earth,” she replied, lightly poking Edda’s nose. “So we have plenty of time to catch up, I assure you. What is this adorable little one’s name?”

Gerdi smiled. “Her name is Edda, though she’s quickly turning into a Cousin Bifur’s girl,” she laughed.

“Ahh, so while Grid may be an Uncle Bofur’s girl, this little one has taken a shine to Bifur? Well, that’s good,” she chuckled. “And what of Sanna? Who has she taken a shine to?”

“Baylee, believe it or not. She hardly leaves the poor dear alone!” Gerdi grabbed a fine, pewter tankard from a shelf before filling it with golden ale from a large, oak barrel. “She’s also quite fond of Lovisa –mostly because she brings flutterflies from outside the Mountain for her.”

At that, Dís chuckled. “Is that so?” She took the mug of ale as Gerdi offered it to her.

Nodding, Gerdi began to fill another mug for herself. “She absolutely adores flutterflies. You should have seen her face when Baylee told her that humans call them ‘butterflies’ though –so confused! She thought the humans used them like butter on toast!”

“In her defense, I thought the very same thing,” she smiled. “To this day, I cannot fathom why humans call them such things. They clearly are not made of butter, so it is a strange name to give them.” She took a small drink of the ale and let out a sigh of content. “It’s been a long time since I last had the ale of Dale.”

Gerdi smiled. “Lake Town ale, actually,” she corrected, “but it’s still good nonetheless. I would imagine the breweries in Dale have good product as well, but I’d imagine they haven’t had the chance to age long enough yet.” She took a long drink from her ale. “How has your stay with Balin and Dwalin been?”

“Pleasant. Balin has been a most gracious host,” she answered. “Of course, I have done my best to not be a nuisance; I’ve taken to making the meals and doing a bit of laundry here and there.”

Waving her hand dismissively, Gerdi frowned slightly. “Dís, you most certainly are _not_ a nuisance. You are more than welcomed here, whether you are staying with Balin or visiting our humble home.” She shifted Edda slightly, smiling down at the cooing baby.

“There…is one who does not entirely appreciate my presence in Erebor,” Dís admitted, “but I care not for his opinion.”

Gerdi glanced at her. “You are speaking of Dain?”

She nodded. “Yes. My cousin finds my return to my childhood home a bit –in his words- ‘unsettling’.” Taking another drink from the ale, she lightly shook her head. “I cannot blame him, however; after all, it would quite easy for me to challenge his rule.”

“And why don’t you?”

Dís looked at her, wearing a sad smile. “It had always been Thorin or Frerin who had been born to rule. Remember how they had mustered our people’s courage at Azanulbizar?” Gerdi nodded slowly. “If anyone in our family should have ruled under the Mountain, it should have been them.”

Nodding slowly in understanding, she wrapped her arm around Dís in a tight hug. “You are among friends now, Dís. We may not be related by blood, but we are certainly family through friendship.”

Letting out a small laugh, Dís patted Gerdi on the back. “We most certainly are, my dear friend. And for that, I am beyond thankful to Mahal.” As she pulled back, she reached down and lightly nuzzled her finger against Edda’s cheek, chuckling as she toothlessly grinned at her. “This little one certainly has her mother’s smile.”

“Aye, that she does,” Gerdi agreed. She was glad that Dís seemed to be doing so well, even though she knew it must be breaking Dís’ heart to be home and without her family. “Bombur reckons she’ll be a little heartbreaker with she’s older, though Baraz is willing to bet money that she’ll grow up to be obsessed with some form of craft that _isn’t_ cooking or toy-making.”

At that, Dís outright laughed. “Is he hoping she’ll follow him and Biriz in the art of jewel craft?”

“Actually, I hope she takes after Cousin Bifur.”

Dís grinned when she saw the oldest of Gerdi’s children standing in the doorway and she approached him, giving him a tight squeeze. “The last time I saw you, your beard was scarcely past your chin! Now it is almost past your neck!”

He chuckled. “It’s not very impressive either way,” he told her. “Biriz’s beard is nearly twice as long as mine and he’s almost fifteen years younger than me.”

She gave him a reassuring smile. “Ah, all the best beards take a while to grow. Why, I remember it took your father nearly fifty years to start growing his beard our properly.”

Baraz’s brow rose. “Really?” She nodded. “He told me he had it nearly three feet long by the time he was thirty…”

“Of course he would tell you that,” Gerdi laughed. “Dís is telling the truth, though –he barely had stubble when I first met him. Oh, you should have seen your Uncle Bofur, too.” She started to gently lead the three of them towards the dining room.

At that, Dís giggled. “Ah, yes –his mustache refused to grow!” she remembered. “He had the jawline growing –and it had been quite long at the time- but he was positive he would never get a mustache.”

Baraz snorted; it was nearly impossible for him to picture his uncle without his long mustache. Bofur had had it ever since he was an infant. “I can hardly believe that.”

They stepped into the dining room, watching as Dori, Nori, and Baylee were finishing up the table. Dori delicately tossed a plate towards Nori, who bounced it off his elbow, much to Zori’s disappointment –he had wanted to play with it. Baylee caught it and set it down atop a placemat only to end up catching a bowl as well.

“The only thing you need is a beard,” Baraz grinned, lightly patting Baylee on the shoulder. He had been about to clap her on the back, but he quickly remembered about her fresh tattoos. “We’ve already got ya actin’ and dressin’ like a proper dwarrow dame, after all.”

Baylee laughed. “Oddly enough, you’re not the first one t’ say that.”

Her attention was suddenly turned elsewhere as Bombur and Lovisa came into the room, each bearing large trays filled with small mountains of roasted boar and vegetables. Behind them came Berez and Biriz, who also carried platters of food that included mashed potatoes, freshly baked rolls, various types of cheeses, and dried fruits. Bifur and Boroz came last, each one toting a cauldron of venison stew. Dwalin, Balin, and Ori soon came in, Dwalin toting Buruz, Grid, and Sanna under his arms.

“I thought I smelled dinner finishing up,” Dwalin smirked.

“We’ve been smelling dinner all day,” Ori chuckled. “You’ve just got a huge appetite.”

“As he should!” Bombur grinned, setting his platter down. “All good dwarrows have large appetites; and with good reason. We know how to cook well.”

Baylee wove her way through the growing crowd of dwarves. “Who wants what for drinks?” she called.

“Beer!” answered Dwalin, Baraz, and Nori.

“Ale,” replied Bombur, Biriz, Boroz, Ori, Lovisa, and Bifur.

“Wine,” said Balin, Berez, Dori, Gerdi, and Dís.

“An’ then juice for the wee ones,” Baylee murmured as she began filling mugs and goblets. She made quick work of filling the vessels up; it was second nature for her, after all. While filling them, she almost felt as if she were back at the Full Tankard, only instead of serving demanding strangers, she had a crowd of goodhearted friends. Once they were filled, she arranged them all on two platters before moving around the room and setting the drinks beside their owners.

Dís thanked her and took up her goblet of wine. “You have a good memory, Miss Baylee,” she commented before taking a sip.

Baylee shyly smiled. “Comes from growin’ up in an inn, milady,” she replied, setting a foamy mug beside Dwalin, who was reaching for a large boar steak. As she set another mug beside Ori, Dwalin set the steak on his plate and she quietly giggled; Ori’s cheeks turned a bit pink as he heard her laughter, but thanked both her and Dwalin.

When she finally got to sit down, she found that Lovisa had already piled food on her plate. She looked over at the half dwarf, who gave her a small wink. With the room filled with various (somewhat loud, so people could hear one another) conversations taking place, Baylee began to eat. Throughout the day, she hadn’t eaten much –mostly thanks to getting her final tattoo- so she hadn’t realized just how hungry she was. Now, however, her stomach was demanding to be filled with Bombur, Berez, and Lovisa’s good cooking.

‘Slow down,’ Lovisa lightly scolded, noticing how fast she was scoffing the food down.

‘Sorry,’ Baylee replied, her mouth full of roasted turnip. ‘Not eat all day. Am starving!’

Lovisa raised her brow. ‘Slow down still. Not want you get sick.’ She ate a spoonful of stew, wincing slightly as she was forced to lean forward.

‘How wound doing?’ Baylee asked. She knew that Lovisa had gotten injured when she and Bifur had gone hunting; the boar had managed to gore her breast with one tusk while the other left a nice gash in her side. She had also managed to get some light bruises on her neck as well as some scratches on her hips, but Baylee had been too worried about the aforementioned wounds to really notice them.

‘Still sting,’ she admitted, ‘but nothing can’t handle.’ She gave her a reassuring smile. ‘Have had worse and you know it.’

‘That true,’ Baylee agreed. ‘Still. Wounds are bad. Are now one that should be on bed rest!’ She cheekily grinned, catching a roll as Lovisa threw one at her. She then ducked, for Dwalin was passing a roll to Nori, who sat beside Baylee and four seats away from Dwalin. ‘Dwarven table manners are far more fun than human manners,’ she thought, taking a bite out of the roll she had caught. ‘Too bad papa, Aunt Demelza, and Galiene would tan my hide if I acted like this back home.’

 

Within two hours, the small feast had been consumed and the dishes from it washed and put away. Having felt a bit crowded with so many dwarves in so close of quarters, Baylee had snuck her way out into the garden. Even though the air didn’t move much (there were slight breezes from time to time), it felt more open than the stone rooms of the mansion.

She had tucked herself away in a part of the garden that wasn’t visited very often, for she had borrowed Nori’s pipe and was currently enjoying some cherry tobacco. Breathing deeply, she filled her lungs with the scented smoke before slowly letting it out through her nose. A shiver ran down her spine and she closed her eyes; the last time she had had a good smoke was when she stole Bofur’s pipe in Dorwinion. She smiled at the memory.

Gravel crunched under the weight of someone and she opened her eyes, able to see Dís coming towards her. Whether Dís saw her or not, she did not know. Just in case she didn’t, Baylee remained quiet, not wanting to startle her. However, she soon realized that Dís knew perfectly well that she was there.

“I saw at dinner that you have grown accustomed to the ways of dwarrow-kind,” she commented, standing a few feet away from Baylee.

Her cheeks flushing, Baylee found herself sitting up straighter and setting the pipe aside. “Not entirely, milady.” She smiled shyly and tucked a braid behind her ear. “Though, I have picked up a fair few habits.”

A smile came to Dís’ lips. “I will admit that our ways can seem uncouth to humans and elves, but I am glad you do not seem to mind them.”

“Oh, not at all, milady! If anything, I much prefer ‘em t’ the boring way us humans do things,” she quickly told her. “Not t’ mention, quicker. Why, if me an’ the other lasses tossed dishes around back at the inn, we’d have the common room cleaned up in a tick!” She felt her cheeks grow darker when she realized she had rambled slightly.

Dís didn’t seem to mind; in fact, she seemed genuinely interested. “Dwalin had mentioned to me that your family owns one of the better inns of Dale. The Full Tankard, I believe he said the name was?”

She nodded as she shifted on the moss, bringing her legs under her. “Aye, the Full Tankard,” she answered, “an’ it’s a high praise t’ hear that Dwalin thinks so highly o’ our inn.”

Fanning out her skirts, Dís sat herself down upon the moss as well, folding her hands in her lap. “He has told me much about you and your family; admittedly, I could hardly believe that he had grown fond of a family of humans. Dwalin is quite…particular when it comes to those who are not of dwarrow blood.”

Baylee smiled. “Aye, Ori’s told me the same thing,” she chuckled. “Truthfully, I’m still a bit shocked that we’ve come t’ be such good friends with a group o’ dwarves. Not that it’s a bad thing! I’ve only known ‘em half a year an’ I consider them some o’ the best friends I could get.” She frowned slightly when the braid slipped loose from behind her ear again. Tucking it behind her ear again, she realized the problem: It was her bitten-off ear.

“Do not take this as an insult, but I believe your small stature helps to make them feel more at ease when in Dale,” Dís supposed. “I will admit that us dwarrows are left feeling somewhat daunted when around humans due to the differences in our sizes.”

She nodded in understanding. “That’s what I figured,” she agreed, “since some o’ them still seem t’ be intimidated by my brother an’ father. They’re over six feet tall.” Out of nowhere, a wave of worry and excitement swept over her. Closing her eyes, she frowned and slowly let out a breath.

Dís frowned. “Is everything alright, Miss Baylee?” she questioned.

“I-I think so. I just felt a bit… _off_ for some reason.” She was about to give Dís a reassuring smile, but another bout of worry started to twist her stomach around. “Maybe I ate a bit too much…” she murmured, her cheeks flushing red.

“Perhaps it would be best if you lay down for a little while?” Dís suggested. “It was a large meal, full of rich foods that we had tonight.”

Baylee nodded, giving her an apologetic smile. “I’m sorry, milady. Maybe we can speak more at another time…?”

“I am certain of it,” Dís smiled. “I hope you feel better after a bit of rest.”

“Thank you, milady.” Excusing herself, she got up and went inside. Before going to her room, she returned Nori’s pipe, having emptied it of the remnants of half-smoked tobacco. By the time she reached her room, the feeling of uneasiness was overwhelming.

‘What in the world is wrong with me?’ she thought, changing into a simpler dress. The green dress was pretty, but it was heavier than what she was used to. ‘I have no reason to be worried! This has been a pleasant evening and I’m surrounded by friends.’ Shaking her head as she pulled on a simple, yellow gown, she went over to her window. ‘It can’t be nerves about meeting Dís. She’s a pleasant dwarrow dame to be around and seems kind enough.’

Her nose scrunched up as her tattoo itched slightly. Knowing better to scratch it, she lightly smacked the back of her neck. The scratchy feeling left and she sighed in slight relief.

Rubbing her forehead, she leaned her elbows on the windowsill. ‘This weird feeling didn’t start until I mentioned Will and papa…’ Her eyes shot open in sudden realization. “Something’s goin’ on at the inn,” she muttered.

Within ten minutes, she had quickly scrawled a note to Lovisa and Gerdi, apologizing for her sudden absence, and had raced down to the family’s stables, where she mounted Lovisa’s horse. Leaving the stable at a trot, she did her best to avoid being a nuisance as she rode through the market. More than once, however, she heard a dwarf utter something in Khuzdul that she was positive was not pleasant.

‘Valar, please let my family be safe,’ she thought, increasing the mare’s pace to a canter once she was outside of the city. From what she could see in the distance, nothing was amiss in Dale –then again, nothing had seemed to be amiss when she and the others had been coming back from Lake Town…‘Please, _please_ let them be safe.’

 

~*~*~

 

Will had his arms crossed as he paced back and forth near the common room’s fireplace. For nearly two hours he had been pacing, unable to bring himself to sit down. He badly wanted to go into the family area, but he knew he’d be nothing but a nuisance if he allowed himself to be even somewhat near the room where Adela, Galiene, Demelza, and Richard were. Once in a while, someone would come by and clap him on the shoulder, congratulating him on his imminent fatherhood.

Somehow, he would manage a nervous smile as he thanked them.

He knew he wouldn’t have been so nervous if he had someone there with him, but it was just his luck that his father was across town for the night, having a night out with some of his friends. And having Baylee there was totally out of the question –Adela would probably give birth by the time he could get news to just the gates of Erebor. At least, he _thought_ that Adela would give birth by then; when she had first gone into labor, he had been absolutely positive that he’d be holding his son or daughter within an hour.

‘That’s what I get for not really knowing a damned thing about child birth,’ he thought, scrunching his nose up. ‘And who would have thought that Adela was that far along! Even the midwife thought she still had another month!’ He rubbed his face in frustration as he leaned against the wall. ‘Nothing’s ready for the baby yet…I thought I had more time…’

“Will!”

He looked up and was more than a little startled to see Baylee quickly limping towards him. “Baylee! What in the world-!?”

She let go of her skirts and grabbed his arms. “Will, what’s goin’ on? Is everythin’ alright? Is everyone safe?”

Still stunned by his sister’s sudden appearance, he nodded jerkily. “F-Fine…Adela’s givin’ birth.”

Her eyes shot open and her frown turned into a wide smile. “Really?” He nodded again and received a tight hug in return. “That’s wonderful! I had been scared somethin’ bad was goin’ on, so I came here as soon as I-” Will pushed her back slightly, frowning in confusion.

“ _How_ did ya know something was happening?” he demanded.

She looked up at him, her head tilted to the side. “I had a feelin’,” she admitted, “’bout an hour-hour an’ a half ago now. Just this big ol’ wave o’ worry came over me an’ I knew somethin’ had to be up.”

Will sighed in relief and pulled his sister to him in a tight hug; admittedly, she winced, thanks to her tattoos, but she didn’t pull away. “Sorry I’m so…blunt right now, but I’m so on edge because o’ this. I’m glad you’re here though –dad’s across town for the night and everyone else is either with Adela or doin’ their best to keep the customers happy.”

 He looked out across the common room, seeing everyone wearing smiles as they ate, drank, and talked amongst each other. “I’m glad everyone’s content right now, though. We’ve had t’ pull in Peter t’ cook an’ Gawen t’ help Wenna with serving. Thank the Valar that Peter has Galiene’s talent with food! An’ thank the Valar that, even though we’re at maximum capacity, everyone here seems t’ be totally understandin’ that Adela’s in labor.”

Baylee gave him a comforting smile. “People tend t’ be quite understandin’ when babies are involved.” Standing on tiptoe, she poked her brother’s nose. “Now _you_ , mister…ya need t’ sit and have yourself a drink o’ some tea.” She took his arm and started to lead him towards the kitchen, having to weave a path through the crowd.

“Where are your crutches?” he asked, seeing her walking unaided.

“Don’t need them anymore,” she smiled. Cautiously, she pushed open the kitchen door in time to see Wenna dashing out of the pantry. She cringed slightly, seeing the semi-disastrous state that the kitchen was left in. “Did a horde o’ goblins come runnin’ through here or somethin’?”

Wenna, Peter, and Gawen spun around, looking at her in shock. Before Baylee could take another step, Wenna had lunged forward, giving her a large bear hug. Will couldn’t help but laugh as Baylee cursed in surprise.

“Alright, alright –I know it’s been awhile since ya lot saw me last,” Baylee chuckled as she lightly pushed Wenna back, “but there’s a full house out there needin’ tendin’ to an’ a soon-t’-be da’ needin’ a cup o’ tea.”

“It’s crazy without Galiene, Demelza, an’ Adela,” Wenna told her, wearing a small frown. “Gawen an’ I are havin’ a hard time keepin’ up on orders an’ Peter’s almost gone through the food Galiene made.”

She nodded in understanding. “Keep doin’ your best, alright? I’ll help Peter out; I don’t think I’m quite ready t’ be runnin’ around a busy inn just yet.” She lightly patted her on the back before shooing her off. Going to counter, she grabbed a kettle and poured some fresh water into it. “Peter, what orders d’ya have right now?” she questioned, setting the kettle over the fire.

Peter glanced over his shoulder at her as he pulled some bread from the oven. “Four stews, two fish, _eight_ roast chickens –two o’ which have a side o’ salad, three with roasted vegetables, an’ the other three with baked potatoes-, an’ five orders o’ plain steak,” he breathlessly replied. She could see that his forehead was glistening with sweat and she found herself silently praying that he wasn’t letting it drip into the food.

“An’ which ones d’ya have cookin’?” She inspected the steaks that were currently sizzling away in the iron skillets.

“Three o’ the steaks, four chickens, an’ the vegetables,” he answered.

Shaking her head, Baylee grabbed an apron and tied it around herself before pushing her sleeves up to her elbows. ‘This is going to be a long night,’ she thought, flipping the steaks and while adding some tea leaves to Will’s mug.

Luckily, things died down within the hour. Baylee had arrived at the tail-end of the dinner rush, after all, and most people were beginning to retire to their rooms. She was thankful, however, that she had arrived when she did –she was certain that there would be patrons still waiting for food if she hadn’t. When the lull had lasted long enough to let them know that no more large orders would be made, she dished up three large bowls of stew and set Wenna, Peter, and Gawen out into the common room to eat, a large platter of oven-fresh rolls to share between them.

Despite the calmness she had showed during the rush, Will could tell that something was worrying her as she sat down across from him. “What’s wrong?” he questioned, pouring her a mug of tea.

“I was expectin’ someone t’ come runnin’ in with news on Adela,” she admitted. “I know she’s in good hands an’ all, but…”

Will smiled. “I know, I know. It’s how I’ve been feelin’ ever since Galiene an’ auntie rushed her to your room.” He sighed and handed the tea to her. “I know she’s in good hands; after all, Uncle Richard is a bit o’ a miracle worker, but…I would like _some_ news.”

“You’re the daddy! Go back there an’ ask for some!” she laughed before moving to take a drink of the tea. Just before she took a large gulp, however, she realized that it was, in fact, scalding hot tea and not the cool ale or cider she had grown used to over the last two months.

His brow rising, Will took the mug from her and set it on the counter. “One, it’s already crowded enough back there without me bein’ in the way –they are in _your_ room after all. Two, ya don’t gulp hot tea, ‘Lee.”

“I’ve gotten too used t’ drinking ale,” she chuckled. “As for bein’ in my room…why not your room? It’s larger! An’…y’know, _your_ room?”

He rubbed the back of his neck and glanced away. “We didn’t think you’d be back so soon, so ah…we were goin’ t’ replace your bed. We just weren’t quite ready yet.” He smiled apologetically, though it quickly turned into a look of guilt and disappointment. “Baylee, nothin’ was ready for the baby –includin’ me an’ Adela. Everyone was sayin’ that we’d have another month at _least_ until she’d give birth. We don’t have a house, we don’t have slings for carryin’ the baby with us, I haven’t finished its cradle –damn it all, Baylee, we don’t even have a name for the baby yet!”

Baylee’s heart sank as she watched Will slouch forward and bury his face in his hands. Getting up, she walked over to him and gave her brother a hug. “It’s goin’ t’ be alright, Will,” she gently told him. “It’s goin’ t’ be alright. You may not be ready, but at least you’ve got family an’ friends here t’ help you.”

“I just feel so useless,” he mumbled. “I wanted so badly t’ do right by Adela, t’ get everythin’ nice an’ ready so we wouldn’t have t’ worry when the time came for her t’ give birth.” He shook his head; Baylee could see that he was crying. “I couldn’t even get a rotten cradle made!”

“Don’t you go talkin’ like that,” she lightly scolded. She used the hem of her sleeve to dry his tears. “You were doin’ your best an’ that’s all anyone could ever ask o’ you. As for that wee baby o’ yours bein’ born? Well, your son or daughter clearly has your impatience –why else would they surprise us with their arrival?” She smiled at her brother as he looked confused. “They couldn’t wait t’ meet their mommy an’ daddy. Who, may I add, are goin’ t’ be _excellent_ parents.”

That worked to bring a small laugh from his throat. “I hope I’m an alright dad,” he told her. “I know Adela’s goin’ t’ be fantastic but…”

“Ah-ah. No buts, William Braddock. You’re the son o’ Warren Braddock, who is a wonderful father himself,” she told him, her tone matter-of-fact. “It’s in your blood t’ be a good dad.” She gave his shoulder a light shove. “Look at how well ya took care o’ me when we were younger. Ya made everyone think you were my older brother by at least five years.”

“An’ instead, I’m your younger brother by an hour,” he chuckled. “People _still_ think I’m the older one.”

She grinned cheekily. “The perks o’ being tall,” she told him. Both siblings looked up as Wenna suddenly burst into the kitchen.

“Will! The baby’s comin’ an’ Adela’s need ya!” she cried, eyes wide.

He stared at her in shock. It took Baylee yanking him to his feet and dragging him out of the kitchen to get him moving. By the time Baylee reached the family quarters, however, Will had darted into the area and disappeared down the hall.

 

~*~*~

 

Bofur let out a quiet sigh as he relaxed in a tub full of hot water. It had been a long day for him; the shop was packed from opening to closing and he had somehow managed to carve a few wooden animals despite the rush. The only bad thing about the day was that he hadn’t eaten since morning and had to come back to eat his meager cooking. He would have gone to the Tankard, but knew full well that it would be busy for the next couple of days –weeks, even, with how many people were coming for the harvest festival.

Soon, he let himself sink under the water so he could start scrubbing his hair. Upon surfacing, he grabbed a cloth and began to properly wash himself. It wasn’t a terribly hard task, though he did find some wood shavings stuck to the back of his neck.

‘Not the first time that’s happened,’ he thought, amused. He flicked the bits of wood out of the tub, watching as they landed with a sizzle on the warm hearth. ‘Tomorrow should be a bit easier of a day at the shop; things tend to slow down at the end of the week. That’ll give Will some time to work on that cradle of his.’

A small frown came to his lips as he found some dried blood on one of his knuckles. Shrugged, his scrubbed it off his skin.

‘I’ll need to go to Erebor soon, though…Bifur and I need to get working on adding more toys to our inventory buffer. Closing during the winter should give us enough time to restock. I’m surprised we’ve managed to keep sales this good after us two being gone for so long rescuing Baylee and Ori…’

Grabbing a large bottle, he opened it and poured a decent quantity of its contents onto the top of his head. He started to scrub his scalp for a second time, this time making sure to thoroughly comb through every lock to ensure total cleanliness. Bofur wasn’t overly fond of the smell of the stuff –it was lavender scented- but he had to admit that it did the job.

He was just getting out of the tub and wringing out his hair when a knock came to the kitchen door. His brow rose as he twisted the last handful of hair, water spilling into the tub.

“Who is it?” he called.

“Baylee.”

His eyes shot open. “Blimey, lass!” he cried, darting for his towel. He quickly tied it around his waist, having to double check that it was tied correctly before going to the door and throwing it open. “You’re supposed t’ be in Erebor!” he exclaimed. “What’re you doin’ here?!”

She wore an apologetic smile. “Well, somethin’ told me—” Then, she paused, her cheeks turning a deep share of red as she found him in naught but a towel. “I’m not…ah…interrupting your bath or anythin’, am I?” she cautiously asked.

He looked down at himself before grinning cheekily up at her. “Just finished, actually.” He shivered as a small gust of cold wind blew past them; Baylee pulled her cloak closer to her frame. “Lass, get in here; it’s freezin’ out there.” Ushering her in, he closed the door behind her. “Sorry it’s a bit messy…”  He noticed that she still had a bit of a limp, though she seemed to be walking well enough.

“It’s not nearly as bad as the inn’s kitchen t’night,” she told him as she went to stand beside the fire. “Oh Mahal, that place was a wreck…” She shook her head, not noticing the amused smile on her lover’s lips. “No. I actually came _here_ ,” she pointed at the floor for emphasis, “for purely selfish reasons.”

“Oh?” His brow rose, watching as she warmed her hands by the flames. “An’ what would that reason be?”

She shyly glanced away and into the flames. “Well…I was wonderin’ if I could stay the night here?”

Bofur looked more than a little surprised. “What? I mean, well, o’ course ya can, âzying, but…what’s wrong with your home?” He couldn’t help but let his eyes linger on her face and hair; if she had just a touch of a beard, she’d look very much like a half dwarf with how her hair was braided.

She let out a small laugh and rubbed her arm; Bofur was able to glimpse some gold fabric under her cloak as she did so. “Well, the thing is, the inn’s full an’ my bed…needs replaced.” She bit her lower lip in giddiness. “Adela had her baby in it.”

“Well, that’s a right shame ‘bout your bed needin’—wait, what?” He stared at her, his head tilted to the side.

“Adela gave birth tonight,” she told him, grinning broadly. “A wee lil’ baby boy! I’m an auntie!”

“Congratulations!” he laughed, his eyes widening in delight. He laughed again as Baylee hugged him tightly. “How are Will an’ Adela doin’?”

She pulled back, having remembered that he was still mostly naked. “They’re doin’ well. Uncle Richard said that Adela should be back on her feet tomorrow, but she’s not allowed t’ do a lot o’ work lest he’ll put her on bed rest.” She let out a small sigh. “Will wasn’t doin’ too goo before Folki was born, though.”

“That’s a good name for a lad,” he commented. “Why wasn’t Will doin’ well?”

“Isn’t it? I think it sounds cute, too,” she chuckled. “An’…well, he was just depressed since they thought they had another month t’ get things ready for him an’ all. I think I managed t’ cheer him up a bit, but he was sobbin’ tears o’ joy when he held his son for the first time.” A warm smile came to her lips. “He’s goin’ t’ be a good daddy.”

“Aye, that he is,” agreed Bofur. He then realized that he had forgotten the most basic of manners: To offer his guest some food and drink. “Are ya hungry or anything? I’ve got some soup left from dinner…Or I could put on a kettle for tea. Or I’ve got a bit of seed cake in the pantry.”

She shook her head, smiling. “No thanks; I’m still full from the feast I had back in Erebor.” She walked over to the cloak rack and unpinned her cloak.

“Feast?” Bofur questioned. His head tilted to the side once more as he saw that she was clad in a yellow dwarven dress. ‘She may not be a dwarrow, but by Mahal’s anvil, she looks just as pretty in a dwarrow dame’s dress…’

“Aye. Dori, Nori, Ori, Zori, Balin, Dwalin, an’ Lady Dís were over,” she explained. She winced as Bofur nearly dropped a bowl he was going to fill for himself. “Is somethin’ wrong?”

Bofur stared at her. “L-Lady Dís is here?” he stammered. “As in Lady Dís, last direct descendant o’ Durin?”

She nodded, her brow rising. “The very one.”

“When did she get here!?”

“She arrived in Erebor sometime last week, I believe,” she answered.

Bofur rubbed the back of his head. “Well by Mahal’s beard. I wouldn’t have thought that she’d ever come back here…” He filled his bowl with the still-warm soup and sat down at the table.

“From what I understand, she took everyone by surprise.” Baylee moved to sit down on a stool, her hip thanking her for the relief. Grabbing a spoon, she tossed it over to Bofur, who caught it.

“Thanks, âzying,” he smiled. “So, ya got t’ meet Lady Dís then?” She nodded. “Did ya two get along?”

Baylee smiled bashfully. “It was a bit intimidatin’ at first, t’ be honest. Gerdi made sure t’ stress t’ me how important o’ a woman Dís is to your people an’ how I needed t’ make a good impression an’ whatnot.”

Bofur dismissively waved his spoon at her. “Bollocks. Dís may be of noble blood, but she’s a dwarrow like you an’ me. Well, like me. You’re not so much a dwarrow…” His smile was a mixture of apologetic and cheeky. “Though, you’d make a good one.”

Laughing, Baylee rolled her eyes. “So I’ve heard,” she chuckled. “But, no. Dís was very nice. I would have liked t’ talk t’ her more, but…Well, somethin’ told me t’ go home.”

He nodded in understanding as he chewed a bit of fish and carrot. His fish soup was not nearly as good as Galiene’s or Bombur’s, which left him feeling like his dinner had been lacking. “It’s a bit odd, though, how you were nervous t’ meet Dís when you’re friends with the king o’ Dale.”

“Oh, don’t even try comparin’ Bard t’ Dís!” she laughed. “When I met Bard, he was a commoner like me. By Varda’s grace, I knew him way back when he had spots!” She chuckled and shook her head. “It’s a totally different situation.”

He smiled. “I know what ya mean, âzying; I’ve known Dís for quite a while, so she doesn’t intimidate me as much as others. Like Bard! Mahal’s hammer, he can be a scary sight sometimes…”

Baylee let out a laugh. “Oh, I’ll agree with that.” She glanced over at Bofur, her cheeks a bit pink when she caught herself staring at his bare torso. Most women, she knew, wouldn’t have found a chubby, hair dwarf all that attractive whether he was dressed or not, but she couldn’t help but bite back a silly grin. To her, he was _handsome_.

Luck was in her favor; Bofur was too absorbed in his soup to notice her staring. “Anythin’ else o’ interest happen while I’ve been gone?” he questioned.

“Bifur an’ Lovisa are courtin’,” she told him. “From what the two o’ them told me, there was an incident that involved Bifur nearly gettin’ trampled by a boar and Lovisa savin’ him?” She shrugged, feeling her skin sting slightly as it was dragged against her tattoos. “Not entirely sure, but I do know tha’ Lovisa got gored in two spots.” She scrunched her nose up at the memory of seeing the injuries.

“That’s not good,” he frowned. “Is she alright?”

“For the most part. She’s goin’ to ache somethin’ awful in the chest for a long while, but ya know her. She’s goin’ to keep going on about daily life like she’s not hurt.”

His brow rose. “I’m afraid t’ ask, but…where did she get hurt?”

“Well…One o’ the tusks got her breast while the other sliced her side.”

Bofur grimaced and rubbed his chest at the painful thought. “That…that’s not pleasant at all.”

She nodded in agreement. “I know. When they got back, it was me doin’ the scoldin’ for once. Told her she should have come back as soon as Bifur bandaged her up, but no. The silly woman went an’ hunted three deer an’ four pheasants over the next three days!” She shook her head.

“An’ Bifur didn’t stop her?” he frowned. “What was he thinkin’?” He had a feeling he knew perfectly well what Bifur had been thinking –and what Lovisa had been thinking- and that meant their brains had no part in the decision making.

Truthfully, Baylee had the same feeling, though she wasn’t about to admit it. “I have no idea. Maybe he just liked bein’ alone with her or maybe Lovisa out stubborned him, but…” She shook her head. “They both got a hearty scoldin’ an’ not just from me, but from Gerdi an’ Bombur as well. I’ve never seen Lovisa turn so red.”

“Good! They should have known better,” he sighed. ‘Guess it’s time to be on the lookout for Bifur being a dad soon,’ he thought, trying to tempt Baylee with a little cake.

Giggling, Baylee took the cake from him. “You’re not goin’ t’ let me stay here without makin’ me eat, are ya?” she asked, tearing off a small piece and popping it into her mouth.

He grinned. “O’ course not. You’re in the house o’ a dwarf; you should expect this.”

“I guess it’s fair, since whenever you’re at the inn, I’m makin’ you eat,” she chuckled. She broke off a piece and offered it to him.

Bofur leaned forward and teasingly nipped it out of her fingers. He laughed as she turned red and giggled, giving him a lightly smack on the shoulder. Standing up, he leaned over and stole a kiss from her cheek, earning another laugh as he then nuzzled her, his beard and mustache brushing against her skin.

“Tha’ tickles, you git!” She lightly pushed him away, though she was still in a fight of laughter.

Hooking an arm around her waist, he pulled her against him while teasingly nuzzling her, continuing to tickle her. She tried to squirm out of his grip, but he held fast, the nuzzles soon turning into kisses. Baylee’s wriggling ceased and she let out a quiet sigh, tilting her head to the side as he stroked her back. When he caressed her upper back, however, she let out a small hiss of pain.

Bofur leaned back, frowning. “I didn’t hurt ya, did I?” he asked, worried.

She shook her head. “It’s alright. I just forgot t’ warn ya about my tattoos.”

His eyes lit up. “You got ‘em?”

“Aye!” she grinned. “Augh, Dwalin did such a good job on ‘em, too. They’re gorgeous!”

“Can I see?”

At that, she paused. “I’d…have t’ take my dress off,” she told him, blushing yet again.

Bofur nodded in understanding. “Then ya don’t have t’ show me,” he told her. “Not if it’ll mean ya being uncomfortable.”

She gave him a small smile. “I think I felt more embarrassed when ya saw me in that concubine outfit than I would feel if ya just saw me bare back,” she confessed. “It’s not like you’d try t’ peep or anythin’.”

“An’ even if I did see something, I wouldn’t stare like some lonely teenaged boy,” he chuckled. “It’s up t’ you, though, âzying.”

Baylee kissed his chin. “I’ll show ya,” she told him, “since I have t’ take the dress off t’ sleep, anyway. Don’t worry,” she told him, seeing his eyes widen, “I’ve got an under dress on.”

“Oh. An’ here I was goin’ t’ loan you one o’ my shirts so ya wouldn’t have t’ be cold,” he teased, finally releasing her. “Before I see them, though, I suggest goin’ upstairs.” He motioned at the windows, which had a severe lack of curtains. “Just in case, we don’t need anyone t’ be spying in and get the wrong idea.”

She nodded. “Good point,” she chuckled.

“How ‘bout you head up now? I’m going t’ wash this bowl an’ then I’ll be up.”

“Sounds good.” As he handed her a candle, she used the fire to light its wick before going upstairs.

Admittedly, Baylee was a bit nervous about revealing so much skin to Bofur; after all, they weren’t exactly married and if someone found out, some nasty rumors could start. On the other hand, she trusted Bofur and knew he wouldn’t try anything she didn’t want. If anything, she just wanted him to hold her throughout the night like he had in Erebor. Whether he wore a shirt or not, she didn’t care…

Biting her tongue, she set the candle down on the nightstand. ‘Don’t go thinking those kinds of thoughts,’ she scolded herself. ‘Even if he does have nice, strong arms…and those shoulders…Baylee, stop that line of thought!’

Shaking her head, she sighed and unlaced the front of her dress. Sliding it off her body, she shivered from the loss of warm and began to fold it up. She almost regretted deciding to show Bofur her tattoos, but knew that if she didn’t show him now, it’d be a long while before she got another chance.

By the time she heard the floorboards creak under Bofur’s weight, she had removed her clothing and had wrapped her lower half with a sheet. Walking into the room, he paused for a moment as he saw her bare back, decorated with a mixture of freckles, scars, and now tattoos. He did his best to focus on the tattoos, which he had to admit, were beautifully done, but he admittedly let his eyes wander a bit.

“Dwalin did outdo himself,” he told her, walking over for a closer inspection. “I don’t think I’ve seen better in my lifetime.”

She turned as he sat beside her, wearing a grin. “I really like that he didn’t make them just black an’ blue like his tattoos. “Especially the spear.”

“Well, it’d be a shame t’ leave it so bland for ya,” he told her. Reaching over, he lightly brushed a few of her braids out of the way so he could get a better look at the runes on the spear tip. He also noticed how she lightly shivered when his fingers brushed against her skin. “You’re such a colorful person, after all. Always wearin’ yellow or green or sky blue…”

Glancing over her shoulder, she gave him a small smile. “What can I say? Black is too dull an’ white’s too plain.”

Leaning forward, he gave her a light kiss on the lips. “Can’t have my âzying being dull or plain,” he murmured with a smile.

She grinned against his lips and reached back, stroking his cheek. “Not when there’s so many pretty colors t’ wear,” she chuckled, nuzzling him.

He smiled and plucked up the far corner of the sheet. “But you look beautiful even in the drab grey o’ this sheet,” he told her.

“You flatterer,” she snickered.

“Only for you.” He kissed her bare shoulder and unconsciously wrapped his arms around her, pulling her closer to him.

Baylee didn’t protest the action; instead, she leaned against him, feeling his bare chest against the skin of her back. Bofur started to trail soft kisses along her shoulder and up her neck, causing her to tilt her head to the side. A soft moan left her lips as she felt his hands start to slowly trail circles along her stomach. Her hand slid back, her fingers slipping into his hair and holding him in place. Bofur lightly nipped the skin just under her ear, earning a quiet gasp.

Suddenly realizing what he was doing, Bofur stopped. “S-sorry,” he murmured, cheeks beet red. “Guess I got-” He was taken by surprise as Baylee silenced him with a kiss.

Doing her best to not break the kiss, she turned around so that she was sitting over his lap. No longer caring whether the sheet covered her or not, she cupped his face in her hands and pressed herself against him. He grunted, his hands rising up and resting on her waist, unsure of what to do at the moment. It was then that Baylee took his hands in hers and slid them further down her body, bringing them down to her thighs as she whispered one, small phrase:

“Don’t you dare stop.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What's this, another set of notes? Normally, I don't leave little comments at the end of a chapter like this, but I figure this is better suited for an end-of-chapter note. I've actually got a little announcement to make: I'll be starting a second Hobbit fanfiction soon, titled 'Out of Their Elements'. It's going to be an everyone-lives AU thanks to the Durin family feels I've been getting whenever I write Dis. It will feature a whole new cast of characters, as well as a more serious tone to it. I hope to get the first chapter up sometime in late December-early January, as I'm currently planning out the first five chapters. So, with that head's up over and done with, I hope you all have a good day/night! :)


	31. 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry this took awhile. There has been a lot going on in my life lately -mostly in thanks to the holidays. But I've also been house-sitting for my friend and...well, I ended up having a bit of a horrible on Saturday, so I couldn't write for a few days. Hopefully things are going to change for the better soon, though! Here's to a new year, a new story, and a one-year anniversary of this story~! (at least, on ff.net it'll be a year XD)

A quiet sigh left Baylee’s mouth as she buried her face into the pillow. She shivered; part of her body had gotten uncovered during the night, and she awkwardly groped behind her for the blanket. Upon doing such, however, she came to the realization that she was not in her own bed, nor was she in the guest bed in Erebor. Eyes quickly widening, she found herself staring at a recently plastered wall. Cautiously peeking over her shoulder, she found the bed beside her empty.

‘Did I dream that…?’ she thought, rolling onto her back. Her cheeks turned bright red as she discovered her body lacking any form of clothing. Small, red marks along her thighs and breasts helped to further prove that the previous night had not been a figment of her imagination. ‘…I guess it wasn’t a dream after all.’

She could hear Bofur whistling downstairs, though what he was doing, she couldn’t tell. Leaning over, she grabbed her hose and pulled them on, along with her shift and dress. Before long, she was going down the stairs only to find Bofur flipping some pieces of bacon in a skillet with one hand while the other filled a teapot with steaming water. When he set the kettle down, she walked up behind him and draped her arms around his neck, kissing his cheek.

“Mornin’, love,” she smiled.

“Âzying!” he chirped, tilting his head back slightly so he could see her better. His hair, still unbraided, was an adorable, unkempt mess. “I didn’t think you’d wake up so early, so I was goin’ t’ bring you breakfast in bed.”

“I could go back up there if ya want,” she teased, burying her face in his hair.

He grinned. “I think I prefer your company down here.” Turning around, he pulled her flush against him and kissed her deeply. His hand brushed some of braids over her shoulder before cupping her cheeks, thumbs stroking her skin. Feeling Baylee snake her arms around his torso to hold him against her, his smile widened against her lips.

“Valar, how I love you,” Baylee breathed as they finally parted.

Another grin came to his lips. “I think they found out last night just how much ya love me,” he quietly teased. Her cheeks flushed red and he laughed heartily as she gave him a playful smack. “I’m just tellin’ the truth, âzying!”

She gave him a second kiss to momentarily silence him. “You are worse than Nori –I hope you know that.”

“Only because we’re alone an’ I can get away with it,” he chuckled. He smirked as a third kiss ensued, but a loud pop from the sizzling bacon caught their attention. “Guess I should turn that,” he murmured, almost disheartened as he turned around.

“Do you want me to start any eggs or somethin’?” she asked, once more hugging him from behind.

Bofur shook his head. “You’re my guest; I get t’ do the cookin’ for once.” After turning the bacon over, he led Baylee over to a chair and sat her down. “I may not be as good as Galiene, Gerdi, or Bombur, but I can still make a hearty breakfast.”

“I don’t doubt that,” she smiled, watching as he began to fuss about setting the table. All the while, he kept stealing kisses from her cheeks and temples. “You’re spoilin’ me, I hope you know.”

“Well, you deserved t’ be spoiled,” he told her, matter-of-factly. Grabbing a plate, he filled it up with the bacon before draining most of the bacon fat left in the pan into a small bowl. The rest he used to fry up some eggs and potates.

Baylee peeked into the teapot, wanting to see what sort of tea he had brewed. Instead, she found it full of plain, hot water. Her brow rising and a soft giggle leaving her mouth, she made sure Bofur wasn’t looking. Then, she grabbed the jar of tea before scooping some of the dried leaves and petals into the teapot. When he was working hard to make sure she had a proper, hearty breakfast, she didn’t want him to end up embarrassed by such a trivial mistake.

 

~*~*~

 

Lovisa yawned as she walked down the hall, heading for Baylee’s room. After a long night of feasting, drinking, and talking amongst friends, she had slept in until well after the sun had risen and had the feeling that Baylee had done the same. As she walked, she noted how the halls weren’t filled with their usual scents of fresh bread and roasting meats –Bombur and Gerdi must have stayed in bed as well.

Reaching Baylee’s room, she knocked on the door while yawning once again. When no answer came from within, she rolled her eyes and simply opened the door. Stepping in, she found the room to be eerily quiet. She saw the green gown Baylee had worn the previous night haphazardly tossed across the foot of the untouched bed and the earthy brown cloak that had been hanging on the hook by the door was missing. Her brows furrowing, she spotted the sheet of paper that the human had left on her pillow.

 

‘ _Lovisa and Gerdi-_

_I got a weird feeling, so I had to go home. I’ll be back tomorrow or the next day, I promise. I’ll explain when I get back._

_-Baylee_

_PS. Sorry for taking your horse, Lovisa! I’ll make it up to you!’_

Lovisa’s eyes shot open and her skin paled. Darting out of the room, she headed back to Bifur’s room, where she had spent the night. When she burst into the room, Bifur was still fast asleep in his bed, his arm flung over the spot where she had been snuggled up beside him. Racing to the bedside, she began to shake him while making loud, panicked-sounding bird whistles in hopes of waking him up.

“What in Durin’s name is goin’ on?” he grunted as he woke up. Seeing the frightened look on his lover’s face, he sat up. “Lovisa, what’s wrong?”

She held the note to him. ‘Read!’ she frantically signed.

Doing as he was told, Bifur took the sheet of paper and read it over. It took him a bit longer, as his eyes were still blurred by sleep. “By my beard, that doesn’t sound good…”

Nodding, Lovisa bit her lower lip. ‘Need to go to Dale,’ she signed. ‘Need to see what’s wrong! What if something happened? What if family hurt!?’

He gently took her hands; he could feel them shaking against his palms. “If something were wrong, we would have gotten news by now,” he gently told her. “Your family isn’t the sort to leave someone in the dark ‘bout somethin’.” Giving her a reassuring smile, he kissed her forehead. “Let me get dressed an’ then we can go to Dale to see what’s got Baylee in a tizzy then, alright?”

Again, Lovisa nodded, though she still looked worried. Before he got out of bed, Bifur gave her a second kiss, this time on the lips. It seemed to help ease her slightly; he could feel her relax against him. While Bifur got dressed, she tried to distract herself by making his bed, but it was a bit difficult, as it was still rather painful for her to lean over thanks to her wound. She was stopped halfway through tugging the blankets up by Bifur, now fully dressed, gently forcing her to stand upright.

“It’s fine,” he told her. “Meet me in the stables; I’m going to let Bombur and Gerdi know we’re goin’ to be gone for a bit.”

‘Thank you,’ she signed, kissing the top of his head. She gave him a half-hearted smile before leaving the room.

 

Within the hour, they were riding through the northern gate of Dale, the midday crowds greeting them. They both rode in on Bifur’s pony, Daisy, who seemed just as eager as Lovisa to reach their destination, for she made her way through the streets at a trot. Sitting behind Bifur, Lovisa shifted uneasily in the saddle; everyone they passed seemed calm enough, but that didn’t mean something hadn’t happened.

“Everything’s goin’ to be fine,” Bifur quietly reassured her. He glanced up at her, giving her a smile. “Baylee’s fine, Will’s fine, Warren’s fine…just you wait.”

She nodded, though it was obvious she didn’t believe him. ‘And can get breakfast, too,’ she signed, making a small effort at a joke.

“Breakfast would be good,” he smiled.

When Daisy turned down the street that led to the Full Tankard, they could see the inn looked as normal as ever. Dismounting, Bifur ushered Lovisa inside while he went to stable Daisy for the day. Lovisa hurried into the inn; again, nothing looked unusual. That is, nothing looked unusual until she spotted Will and Adela sitting in the plush chairs near the fire, a little bundle being cradled in Will’s arms. A rather hung-over Warren sat across from them wearing a large, silly grin as Baylee handed him a steam mug of tea.

It was Warren who first spotted Lovisa. “Lovisa! You’re just in time; get over here an’ meet your wee nephew!”

Two emotions rushed through her: First came the tidal wave of relief brought on by knowing all was well; second came the pure shock and amazement that Adela had given birth already. She, like everyone else, had been expecting the woman to give birth in a month or two. Her eyes widening and a grin spreading across her lips, she hurried over and peeked over Will’s shoulder, having to stand on her tiptoes.

A tender expression came to her features as she beheld Folki for the first time. He was a bit bigger than average for a human child –more than likely in thanks to his father- and he had a full head of thick, red hair, just like his mother. Being that he was asleep at the moment, she was unable to see what color his eyes were, but that didn’t matter to her. He was a beautiful, healthy, baby boy and that was all that mattered.

Will tiredly grinned up at her. “His name is Folki,” he answered before she could even sign half the question.

“He came last night,” Adela explained to the half-dwarf. “Surprised us all. We were sure I had a few weeks left, but I guess he had other plans.”

“I keep tellin’ ya,” Baylee chirped, “he wanted t’ meet his mommy an’ daddy, so he surprised ya!”

Lovisa chuckled before raising her brow as Will stood up. He motioned for her to take his seat, to which she promptly refused. ‘You have child, you sit!’

He shook his head. “Just sit. ‘Lee told us all how you got hurt.”

Her cheeks turned bright red as she sat down in his chair. She was about to protest and scold Baylee, but her arms were suddenly filled with the bundle that was Folki. Any and all thoughts about the words she had been about to sign to Baylee left her mind and were quickly replaced by her utter adoration of the small human child.

It was this sight that Bifur walked into the common room to see. His head cocked to the side as he saw Lovisa sitting there, making soft bird noises to the newborn as Warren told her about how he had missed the whole ordeal thanks to be passed out drunk. He paused in his steps, staring at her; he had seen her with children before –Zori, Edda, and Sanna instantly came to mind- but they hadn’t been newborns like Folki.

There was something about the way she smiled as she looked down at the newest Braddock made him realize, quite suddenly, that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her. He didn’t know why he hadn’t realized it sooner; he had fancied her for a good while, after all. The way she gently rocked the newborn and quietly cooed to him along with the completely and utter adoration in her eyes only helped to further cement his resolve to make her his wife.

“Bifur? Bifur, you alright, lad?”

He blinked, somewhat coming out of his trance to see Baylee standing beside him, her hand waving in front of his face. “Huh?”

“Are you alright?” she repeated, looking concerned.

Slowly, Bifur nodded before running his hand through his hair. “Fine,” he replied, speaking in Westron. “Nephew born?”

She smiled broadly. “Aye! Just last night. He’s the cutest lil’ thing. I think Lovisa’s already offered t’ watch over him should Adela an’ Will need a night t’ themselves when he’s older.”

“Not doubt!” he chuckled. “Lovisa care good.” He looked back at his lover, a look of pure love softening his features.

Baylee recognized that look; she had seen many males wear it throughout her lifetime. Patting Bifur on the shoulder, she quietly laughed. “I’ll get ya some breakfast. You go over there an’ chat.” She quietly giggled as he nodded and wandered off towards the family. Heading in the opposite direction, she went into the kitchen to find Demelza and Galiene bustling about, gossiping as they did most mornings.

“Isn’t he just the cutest lil’ thing?” Galiene was saying as she kneaded bread. “With his momma’s hair an’ his daddy’s looks, he’ll have the ladies o’ Dale chasin’ him when he’s older!”

Demelza let out a theatric groan while she whisked up some gravy. “Don’t go saying that, Galiene! He’s so little –I don’t want to think about how fast he’ll be growin’, especially with my own grandchildren so far away from me!”

“Well, he was just born yesterday, so it’ll take a while for him t’ start growing up at least,” Baylee chimed in.

Galiene gave her a half scolding, half amused look. “Don’t you sass us, young woman,” she lightheartedly joked. “Before you know it, you’ll be the one poppin’ out a baby or two!”

Demelza glanced at the cook, a teasing grin on her lips. “Perhaps even a royal bairn or two.”

“Oh, if that’s the case, I hope it’s more than two!”

Baylee froze. “Wh-what?” she stammered. “What do ya mean, royal bairns? How do you two even know ‘bout that?”

The two women looked at one another. “Well, practically the whole town knows tha’ Bard wants t’ court you,” Galiene told her. “Wenna overheard him askin’ your da’ about it sometime ago.”

“And you know how fast things spread thanks to inns like ours,” Demelza mused. She gave Baylee a teasing grin. “So, when will you be seein’ Bard t’ discuss a courtship?”

Rubbing the back of her neck, Baylee started to prepare a platter of food for Bifur and Lovisa. “Well, I had been thinkin’ ‘bout seein’ him today, but it wasn’t t’ accept the courtship…”

Demelza frowned. “What do you mean, love? Last I knew, you were deep in love with him!”

Baylee didn’t look at her aunt; instead, she kept her back to her. “That was a long time ago, auntie. I don’t fancy him anymore.” She grabbed a small pitcher of cream and set it beside a plate of biscuits and a bowl of roasted vegetables. “In fact, I’m courtin’ someone else.”

Letting the gravy slowly come to a boil, Demelza curiously looked at her niece. “Oh?” She sounded almost disappointed. “Who is it then?” she interrogated, leaning against the counter. “A soldier? One o’ the merchant lads?” She plucked up a plate from the rinsing basin and started to dry it.

Unconsciously flicking a bowl and some dried berries in the air, Baylee caught the dish, the berries landing neatly in the bottom. “Not exactly,” she murmured, filling the bowl with porridge and giving it a good stir to incorporate the berries.

Galiene blew a lock of hair from her face. “Well, out with it, lass! Who’s your lover boy?”

She set the bowl down on the platter. “Bofur.” She cringed as she heard the plate slip from Demelza’s hands, shattering as it hit the stone floor.

“A dwarf?” she gaped, not even caring about the plate. “You’re courting a _dwarf_?”

Risking a glance over her shoulder, Baylee bit her tongue; Demelza did not look happy whatsoever. “I love him,” she answered, her voice a bit timid, “an’ he loves me.”

“But…Baylee, he’s a _dwarf_!” argued her aunt. “Why court him when you could court Bard? You’ve certainly known Bard a lot longer –not to mention, he’s done so much for our family. He’s given us the prime property for our inn as well as constantly tells other nobles and what-have-you t’ come stay and eat here…why, he even gave us first rights to the Dorwinion wine trading!”

“Aye, he did, but auntie…” She rubbed her arm, starting to get irritated. She had always known that her aunt was opinionated about the dwarves of Thorin’s Company, but she hadn’t know she was _this_ opinionated. “If it weren’t for Bofur, Will an’ I probably wouldn’t be alive right now. He was the one who found us after the battle.” 

“That may be so, but it was Bard who sent him an’ the others after you lot! He was the one who got the information out of the captive raider and had preparations made for their quest –Not Bofur.”

“But it was Bofur who went on the quest, not Bard!” Baylee retorted. “Auntie, I don’t love Bard anymore! Why are you so against me courtin’ Bofur?”

Demelza rubbed her forehead. “Baylee, you deserve better than him! Look at you! You’re young, you’re strong, you’re from a good, rich family –you should marry someone within or above your status. Bard is a _king_ –he could give ya everything you’ve ever wanted. Books, dresses, even lemons to make your favorite lemon cake!” She looked down at her niece, a look of disappointment on her features. “Baylee, Bofur’s just a toymaker. You can do so much better than him, love.”

Baylee looked up at her aunt as she plucked up the tray of food. “Auntie, I love ya dearly, but you’re wrong. You are so wrong. There’s no one better than Bofur. At least, not for me.” Before Demelza could argue further, she left the kitchen.

 

Some hours later found Baylee walking through a crowded street that sloped upwards towards the heart of the city. Her stomach twisted and turned with nerves, though she outwardly appeared calm and collected –a hard feat, especially since half of the city seemed to be staring at her as she walked. Thanks to Galiene and Demelza, she knew that stared thanks to rumors of her courting Bard; and, since she was heading to Bard’s home, she knew more fuel would be added to those fires.

‘Wenna, if you weren’t my friend, I would have skinned you alive by now,’ she thought, pulling her cloak closer to her small form. She was thankful for the heavy dwarven fabric; it kept the cool, autumn air at bay quite well. ‘Maybe I should buy some things for papa and Will’s family…Keep them nice and toasty…’

Before she knew it, she was standing before the gates of the palace. Two guards barred her passage, though she could see into the courtyard where Bard’s daughters, Sigrid and Tilda, were playing a game of tag.

“What business have you with Lord Bard?” one of the guards demanded.

Her brows furrowing slightly, Baylee cocked her head; his voice was very familiar. “Tyko?” 

The guard tilted his head as well before lifting his visor. “What the…Baylee?” Despite the stern, disapproving look of his companion, Tyko grinned broadly. “Blimey, it is you, Baylee! I thought you was a dwarf, what with how you’re clad an’ all!”

A laugh left her mouth. “Oi, I’ll have you know that I’m taller ‘n Durin’s folk and not so gorgeously bearded!” She grinned. “I’m glad t’ see you’re doin’ so well.”

“Ah, the same t’ you, lass,” he chuckled. “I’m a bit surprised to see you up an’ walking though! I was told you couldn’t walk anymore. Guess I heard wrong, eh?”

“Well, for a while I wasn’t allowed t’ walk. I’ve been in Erebor, restin’ up. I’m nearly back t’ bein’ on my feet again, but I think my family will have my hide if I end up overworkin’ myself too soon.”

He nodded in understanding. “As right they should. So, what brings you here?”

“I need t’ speak with Bard,” she told him, “but if he’s busy, I can come back another day.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

Both guards and Baylee turned in time to see the king walking down the street towards them. “I’m glad t’ see you back on your feet, Miss Baylee,” he told her. He motioned to the older of the guards, who stepped aside and opened the iron-barred gate into the courtyard.

“It’s good t’ be on them again,” she replied, her stomach oddly calming down. Following Bard into the walled area, she smiled as his two girls ran over to them. She raised her arms in surprise as Sigrid suddenly ducked behind her with a giggle, hiding under her cloak to keep Tilda from tagging her.

“Girls, what have I told you about using guests as your playthings?” Bard chuckled –a sound Baylee had so rarely heard from him in the past. Plucking up Tilda, he tucked her under his arm. “Come on, Sigrid. Let Miss Baylee have her cloak back.”

“But it’s soft!” the small girl argued. She held out a corner of it to her father. “Feel it, papa! It’s soft like Mister Whiskers!”

Baylee’s brow rose in amusement. “Mister Whiskers?”

“Their pet rabbit,” Bard explained. Crouching down, he scooped up his oldest daughter as well. “If I remember correctly, the two of you are supposed t’ be helping Miss Gwyneth make bread for the festival today. Why are you out here?”

Both girls looked up at him in shock. “That was _today_?” Tilda gasped. Her father nodded and the two wriggled out of his grip before darting away.

“They really must love baking,” Baylee chuckled, readjusting her cloak.

He nodded. “Aye, they do,” he replied. “Then again, the festival is in two days. I don’t doubt they’re just using the baking as a way to pass the time until then.” Looking Baylee over, he could see that her hair style and her clothes appeared to be entirely in the dwarven fashion. “I see the culture of Erebor has rubbed off on you.”

Her cheeks turned a bit red and she looked down at herself. “O-Oh…these were gifts,” she stammered. “Gerdi thought I didn’t have enough dresses –or warm ones, at least.” She gave him a small smile.

Bard returned the look. “Still. I’m glad to see that you’re not permanently hurt. When I saw your wound, I was afraid you’d never walk again.”

“And that was _after_ it had a few weeks to heal,” she chuckled. “It’s much better now. I can almost walk without limping, though I doubt that’ll go away.”

He nodded in understanding. “So long as you can walk again,” he told her. “Oh, and congratulations on being an aunt.”

“You heard?”

“Of course. Such a joyous event isn’t something that’s kept quiet in this town. Ya should know that by now.”

She chuckled. “It was worse in Lake Town; back there, all ya had t’ do was literally lean out o’ the window if ya wanted t’ talk to your neighbor. Now, I don’t have neighbors…”

“No, but you’ve many guests who visit the inn; that’s how you get your gossip.” He gave her a teasing smile and she felt herself blush; he certainly smiled more often these days…

Bard led her into the palace, which was moderately decorated. Baylee had never been inside the building before and had always thought she would be intimidated by being in a royal home –it was quite the opposite, however. Thanks to his humble upbringing. Bard had the halls decorated in a simple, homely fashion. It was warm and sweet smells were coming from the direction of the kitchen. The tapestries that hung from the walls had all been made in Lake Town and, Baylee noticed, some of them bore scorch marks from the day of Smaug’s attack.

“I hate t’ say it, Bard, but you’re palace feels more like a simple house,” she admitted. “Not that it’s a bad thing, though.”

“I wasn’t born a king,” he mused, “so I don’t quite know how they live. At least, how _proper_ kings live.”

“Aye, the Master wasn’t much o’ a ruler, was he?” She scrunched her nose up at the memory of the putrid man.

“He could hardly be called a Master, let alone a ruler,” Bard agreed. He glanced down at her as they started to pass by a flight of a stairs, a servant coming down them. “Would you like anythin’ to eat or drink, by the way?”

Feeling her hip starting to ache from all the running around she had done the previous day, she nodded. “Some tea would be nice, actually.”

He caught the servant by the crook of his arm. “Some tea for Miss Baylee an’ me, if you’d please, Baldric. We’ll be in my study.”

“Yes’m, milord,” the short man replied before scuttling off towards the kitchens.

Bard opened a door just down the hall from the stairs, motioning for Baylee to enter. “I know you’ve come t’ talk about my inquiry about courting you, but I figure some privacy would still be welcomed,” he told her as she stepped into the room. Like the rest of the palace, it was moderately decorated, but there was a fine, maple desk and chair sitting near a pair of large, double windows. “I hope this isn’t too formal, though…”

“Understandable,” she replied. “Is tha’ Will’s handiwork on the desk there?”

“You’ve a good eye for your brother’s work,” he chuckled, pulling a chair out for her. “Aye, it was made by him, though someone else made the chairs. I believe it was Timothy Hardnell’s son who did them.” He offered to take her cloak before she sat down, moving to hang it on a rack by the door.

“Ah, good lad. Shame he lost his arm in that accident last year, though. Will was sayin’ how he would have made a fine carpenter.”

“Aye, he would have.” Rather than sitting behind the desk, he sat down in the chair across from her. “Speaking of lost limbs, how are your hands?”

Holding up her hands, she showed Bard the healed marks where her ring fingers had once been. “Healed,” she replied. “I wish I had them back, though. Some things are a lot easier t’ do with them…like kneadin’ bread an’ braidin’ hair…”

He nodded solemnly. “I would imagine. At least they were cut off cleanly; I don’t think you’d like havin’ just stumps or half o’ a finger left.”

She looked down at her hands. “Gerdi mentioned once that there’s a possibility o’ one o’ the craftsmen in Erebor could make me a pair o’ decorative false fingers, but, truthfully, I think they’d be more o’ a hassle than a blessing. They’d only be good t’ have if I wanted to poke someone in the eye.” She looked up as Baldric came in, bearing a silver platter of tea and cake.

“Which reminds me…Why did your father send you t’ Erebor rather than keep you here in the city?” Bard questioned. He took the platter from Baldric, who gave a small bow. “Thank you, Baldric; this will be all.”

“He sent me there because he knew I couldn’t get the proper amount o’ care that I needed while here,” she explained, watching as Bard poured her a cup of tea. She thanked him as he handed it to her. “So, he asked a favor o’ Bofur an’ Bifur an’ next thing you know, Bob’s your uncle –I’m in Erebor.”

Bard took a drink of his own tea. “You could have stayed here,” he quietly told her. “I would have made sure you got the care ya needed.”

Her cheeks reddened. “I don’t think he thought o’ that at the time,” she quietly admitted. “But I’m sure ya would have.” She gave him a small smile before taking a sip of her tea. A shiver ran through her body as the warm liquid trailed down into her stomach, starting to heat her up.

“So…” He set his cup down, glancing at her. “About that question…”

Sighing, Baylee, too, set her cup aside. “I’m sorry, Bard, but…” She rubbed her upper arm guiltily. “I’m already courtin’ someone.” She swallowed hard as she watched his eyes fill with disappointment and heartbreak.

“You are?” She nodded and he glanced away, leaning his elbows on his thighs. “I guess it was my turn to be too late…Who’s the lucky man?” He forced himself to smile, even though his tone betrayed his regret.

“Dwarf, actually.”

He glanced up at her, brow raised slightly. “Dwarf?”

Again, she nodded. “Aye. I’m courtin’ Bofur.”

“Ahh…one of the kinder members of Thorin’s Company. I had wondered why he seemed t’ be unusually upset when he found out about you an’ Ori gettin’ kidnapped.”

An awkward smile came to her lips. “Well, dwarves can be protective folk,” she told him.

“Especially when it comes t’ friends and family,” he agreed. “Or the pretty daughter of an innkeeper.”

Her cheeks flared red, earning a small grin from the king. “You shush,” she teased. Taking up her tea again, she took a drink –whether because she was thirsty or to hide herself behind the cup, not even she knew. She was not used to being given compliments on her looks, even though Bofur called her beautiful on a daily basis.

“I only speak the truth,” he told her, a bit of jest to his voice. “After all, it’s not every day that ya hear about a dwarven toymaker winnin’ the heart of someone like you.”

“You make it sound like I’m some hoity-toity princess,” she told him, “when I’m just an innkeeper’s daughter. Nothin’ special about me, Bard.”

Bard leaned forward and dared to reach a hand out to cup her cheek. His thumb lightly traced over one of the scarred lines on her cheek and a small, pitying smile came to his features. “These scars say otherwise, Baylee,” he softly retorted. “You may have been born an innkeeper’s daughter, but you have the blood of warriors running through your veins. And I thank Manwë for that, because even though you may not be mine, I wouldn’t want t’ live in a world without ya.”

Baylee smiled, feeling her eyes threatening to water. “Maybe in another life,” she quietly suggested, “we will have a family, but until then, I thank the Valar that I have ya as a friend.”

Kissing her forehead, Bard smiled and pulled back. “Bofur certainly is a lucky dwarf; I hope he realizes this.”

“I’d like t’ think that I’m the lucky one,” she admitted. “When I’m with him, I finally feel safe again…”

Bard tilted his head. “You…don’t feel safe?” he questioned, his brows furrowing. “Why is that?”

“It’s hard t’ feel safe after everything that’s happened these last few years. You o’ all people should know what I mean. The dragon, the razing o’ Lake Town, the war…” Rubbing her hands together, she looked down at them as her thumbs ran over the scars between her middle and pinky fingers. “An’ now I get t’ dream about gettin’ kidnapped.” She gave Bard a small, tired smile. “I don’t even know why I dream ‘bout them or what makes me go into those nightmares, but I do know that when I’m around Bofur, he makes me forget that all o’ that happened an’ I feel safe.”

He nodded in understanding and refilled their tea cups. “It’s hard to be upset when one keeps company with a group o’ jovial dwarves who like nothin’ more than to eat, drink, and make bawdy jokes.”

At that, she chuckled. “They do more than that, ya know…Ori likes t’ paint an’ draw, Bifur an’ Bofur make toys, Dwalin is normally a sort o’ city guard, an’ Nori’s now a father an’ helpin’ Dori…Bombur’s happily raisin’ his family…”

Bard couldn’t help but be impressed. “You’ve made friends with almost the entirety of Thorin’s company by the sounds o’ it.”

“Gerdi –Bombur’s wife- thinks it’s because I know how t’ keep a dwarf well-fed,” she joked.

“That could very well be why,” he smiled. “Or it could be because you’re short.”

Baylee snorted into her tea, earning a laugh from the king.

 

~*~*~

 

Lovisa yawned as she set a large tray of food in front of Bifur and Bofur. The cousins were discussing, quite vigorously, what toys they needed to start making again and how much of their stock they had already sold. They had been talking about such matters for nearly an hour now, and there seemed to be no end in sight. The two males did, however, thank her for the food and Bifur stood up so he could kiss her cheek. She smiled and kissed the top of his head before going to check on Adela and Will to see if they needed anything.

Pushing the door open to the private quarters, she found the happy couple sitting near the hearth, a blanket draped over Adela’s shoulder and chest as she fed Folki. Will glanced up as the half-dwarf entered, giving her a tired smile.

“Hello, Lovisa,” he spoke, his voice soft so as to not disturb his son. “Finished feeding the masses?”

She rolled her eyes, smiling. ‘Ha, ha,’ she signed. ‘Need anything?’

Will looked at Adela. “Are you hungry or thirsty, love?” he translated.

Adela shook her head. “Not right yet.” She glanced up at Lovisa. “You, however,” she suddenly spoke, her tone almost scolding, “should be resting. Especially since you’re injured _again_.”

Lovisa’s cheeks flared red. ‘I’m fine,’ she argued, Will having to translate. ‘Doesn’t hurt much.’

The redhead’s brow rose, not believing her. “If it doesn’t hurt, then why are ya hunched forward?”

Unconsciously straightening herself, Lovisa put a hand on her hip. ‘Assure you-’

“Nope, no arguments. I want ya t’ go and plop your arse in that chair because as soon as this child finishes eatin’ an’ gets burped, you get t’ be the one t’ rock him t’ sleep.”

Her hand slowly lowered; Lovisa knew she couldn’t argue against such an order –not that she would want to, as she loved children. Going and taking a seat in what was normally Warren’s chair, she winced slightly and propped a pillow behind her for support. As she did so, she could see the triumphant smile on Adela’s lips and the amused grin on Will’s face.

Soon enough, Adela had finished feeding and burping Folki and she stood up, passing the infant over to Lovisa, who cradled him in her arms. Folki wriggled around a little bit before calming down, his eyes opening momentarily and allowing her to see that they were brown like Will’s. He looked up at Lovisa, though wasn’t quite yet able to focus on her. She knew from having helped raise Will, Baylee, and their cousins that it would be awhile before Folki would be able to properly look at things.

‘Will grow up to be heartthrob,’ she signed, though when she looked up, only Adela was left in the room. That made things a little awkward, since she knew Adela didn’t know Iglishmêk.

Adela gave her a small smile. “I can understand a little of what ya sign,” she told her, “so if you go slow, I can try t’ read ya. I can’t make any promises, though”

Lovisa cocked her head. ‘Will teaching you?’ she slowly asked.

She nodded. “He wants me an’ Folki t’ learn –not just so we can talk an’ understand with you, but also because he’s damned sure that Baylee an’ Bofur are goin’ t’ end up married an’ he wants Folki t’ understand his cousins if any o’ them end up mute. I doubt they will, but ya never know.” She shrugged slightly.

‘May need it if Bifur, me have children,’ she replied. ‘Strong chance.’ She softly imitated a dove’s cooing to Folki, whose eyes were beginning to droop.

Adela took a few seconds to figure out what she had signed, having to use her own hands to help her remember. “That I don’t doubt,” she finally admitted. “After all, the two o’ you have been nearly inseparable since ya first met.” Lovisa glanced up, her brow raised –a look that earned a giggle from Adela. “Oh, don’t deny it. Will’s told me all about how the two o’ ya stuck together while ya went east.”

Her cheeks turned a bit pink. ‘Because Bifur, me, have similar problems. Similar lives.’

“Don’t forget the two o’ you are utterly adorable when you’re together. Like two hens frettin’ over a brood of chickens an’ roosters tha’ you think are still just wee chicks.”

‘Bifur not hen. Bifur is rooster. Even have crest.’

Adela quietly giggled. “That he does,” she agreed. Both women looked at the door as it opened, revealing Will returning with a platter of food. Behind him followed Baylee, who toted a smaller tray of drinks. They set their trays down on the table between the chairs, making quick work of separating them out.

“Hello, Baylee,” Adela greeted. “Did ya have a good talk with Bard?”

Nodding, Baylee gently plopped down in a cushioned chair. “Aye, I did. He wasn’t terribly upset and understood perfectly well why I chose Bofur over him.” Despite her pleasant answer, the other three could tell that she was irritated by something.

“So what’s got you annoyed then?” Will asked, brows furrowed as he handed Lovisa a tankard of ale.

“Auntie,” she admitted with a sigh. “She’s unreasonably upset that I’m not goin’ t’ be courtin’ Bard but am instead courtin’ Bofur.”

Will and Lovisa rolled their eyes and Adela groaned. “Really? Why in the world is she upset about _that_?” Adela demanded. “Bofur’s a perfectly good lad; has a wonderful sense o’ humor as well.”

Baylee took a long drink from her mug of wine. “Apparently, Bofur’s not worthy o’ courtin’ me. I deserve better than a dwarrow who makes toys.” She shook her head and took another swig of wine. “After all, it’s not like Bofur didn’t save me life or anythin’ important like that…”

“An’ I’m guessin’ she voiced her opinions t’ ya when ya got back then?” Will questioned.

“Oh, she did. Wenna voiced some, too –but they were in favor o’ our courtship, luckily- but I managed t’ get some revenge on auntie.” A small, victorious grin came to her lips as she set her tankard down.

‘How?’ asked Lovisa, Will having taken Folki from her so he could put him in his bassinet.

“I kissed Bofur in front o’ her. Not just a peck on the cheek, either.” Her proud, cheeky grin earned a laugh from Adela. “No, it was a full-blown kiss on the lips tha’ surprised even Bofur.”

“So that’s why you went an’ did that!” Will snorted. “I was wonderin’ why the first thing you did was walk right up to him an’ do that.”

Baylee nodded and crossed her legs, adjusting her dress so that her calves remained (mostly) covered. “I love her t’ pieces, but I’m not a little girl anymore. I love Bofur an’ her poutin’ isn’t going to be changing that anytime soon.”

Adela nodded in agreement. “You’re a grown woman who can make her own decisions. Demelza needs t’ accept that – _especially_ now that you’re courtin’ someone.” She sipped her tea before plucking up a bowl of soup.

Lovisa also nodded. ‘Though, remember –Demelza just looking out for you. Sometimes, people get too happy when good things happen. That when bad things take place; all because happiness blinded people. Am not saying Bofur bad dwarf –he very much opposite- but am letting know that shouldn’t put all blame on aunt.’

“I know,” Baylee agreed, “an’ I’m glad she’s watchin’ out for me. I just…can’t really respect tha’ she doesn’t like the fact that I’m courtin’ a dwarrow. Aye, he’s short, hairy, an’ a different race ‘n me, but…” She shrugged. “Why should that matter? I’m sure she wouldn’t have this complaint if I had started courtin’ Prince Legolas o’ all people.”

At that, Adela and Lovisa looked thoughtful before shrugging. ‘He may be handsome, but not sort would want marry,’ Lovisa signed.

“Aye,” Adela agreed. “He seems a bit…arrogant, wouldn’t ya say? Sure, he’s a prince ‘n all, but really. Does he have t’ be so hesitant t’ drink our wine when it’s the same stuff his father guzzles down in the halls o’ Mirkwood?” She shook her head. “Handsome as the sun, but needs a bit o’ a personality change.” Lovisa vigorously nodded, earning a chuckle from Will.

“Most o’ the elves are like that, though,” he told the two females.

“Clearly, ya haven’t met the same elves tha’ we have,” Baylee mused. “Aye, they’re all a bit…airy sometimes, but most o’ them are just as fun as the dwarrows.” She finished her wine. “Though, I don’t find Legolas as handsome as Lovisa an’ Adela do.”

“Obviously –you’re into dwarves, not elves,” Adela teased.

Baylee grinned. “I prefer t’ stay a bit more grounded in my tastes. Speakin’ o’ which…” She finished her mug of wine and stood up. “I promised him I’d save him some pie an’ if I don’t get to the kitchen, it’ll be gone.”

“Got t’ keep that dwarf well fed,” Will smiled. “Go on; I think I can take care o’ these three on me own.”

“Good,” she mused, ruffling his hair in a similar fashion that Warren would do. Tankard in hand, she left the room in search of a piece of pie for Bofur.

 

Later that evening found Lovisa relaxing in a hot bath. Being that it was so late at night, she was the only one in the bathing room, allowing for some peace and quiet. She yawned and sank further down into the warm water, feeling her muscles starting to ease up. Reaching over, she grabbed a large tankard and took a drink from it, feeling the lemon-ginger tea warm her stomach right up.

Setting the mug back on the table, she closed her eyes and tilted her head back. A few minutes later, she heard the faint sound of the door opening and her brow rose.

‘Probably Baylee or Wenna,’ she thought, pushing a damp lock of hair from her face. ‘After all, this is the women’s bathing room…’

Her eyes suddenly shot open as the person wrapped their arms around her from behind and kissed her cheek. Bifur’s laugh echoed through the quiet room as she lurched forward in surprise, but upon hearing his voice, she calmed slightly. Turning around, she lightly smacked him.

‘Scare me!’ she scolded. ‘Could have hurt you.’

“Would have hurt yourself more,” he replied, kissing her forehead. “I was wondering where you had gotten to.” He kissed her temple affectionately. “I’m sorry Bofur an’ I were talking about boring things.”

‘Understand; stock is getting low in toyshop. Also…not supposed to be in here, you know.’ She gave him a scolding look that had just a hint of playfulness to it. ‘Women’s bathing room.’

He grinned cheekily. “No one will know. I can be as silent as a cat, you know.”

‘Until have to leave. Then someone will see.’ She turned around and once more relaxed against the back of the tub.

“Well, they’ll have to live with it,” he murmured, burying his face in the crook of her neck. “You smell nice…”

Reaching back, she stroked his cheek and sighed in content. ‘You smell of stew, cider.’ She grinned. ‘Smell delicious.’

“At least I smell good.” Taking her hand, he kissed her palm before entwining their fingers. He rested his chin on her shoulder and gazed up at her green eyes, a smile coming to his lips. “I love you so much, Lovisa,” he whispered.

‘Love you also,’ she signed with her free hand. She smiled once more as he covered the back of her hand in soft kisses.

“Someday, I’ll have you as my wife an’ we’ll have a family of our own,” he softly told her. “As many children as you want.”

Shifting in the tub, Lovisa cupped his face in her warm hands and gave him a soft kiss. Even though she wasn’t signing, he knew that she approved of the idea. When she pulled back, he saw a tender smile on her features.

‘Would like that,’ she signed. ‘But not know if am still young enough to bear children.’

“Well, even if you can’t, we’ll still have a family,” he assured her. “We can always adopt.” His hand rose up to tuck a lock of hair behind her ear. “I may not have a ring with me but…Will you be my wife?”

Lovisa nodded and kissed his nose. ‘Not even need ask.’


	32. 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! This chapter contains a lot of merriment, as it's finally the day of the festival. So, there are about three songs, none of which I wrote, ha! First one is 'Peasant's Promise' by Blackmore's Night; second is an Irish tune, 'I'm a Rover'; and thirdly is another Irish/Scottish tune, 'Mary Mack'. More importantly, however, is that I finally posted the first chapter to my new fic, 'Born of Lies'! You can find it here, on ff.net, and on Tumblr, all under renovek~

Ori let out a quiet sigh as he rolled over in his sleep and unconsciously buried his face in the crook of Dwalin’s neck. Dwalin smiled down at the younger dwarrow, his hand rising and brushing a stray lock of hair from his freckled face. With the dying candlelight flickering against his skin, Ori looked quite perfect to Dwalin. It made him almost not want to move.

Dwalin’s bladder, however, wanted emptied.

Shifting uncomfortably, he tried to stay in bed as long as possible, but no matter what, his bladder sloshed about inside him. With a defeated sigh, he did his best to slide his arm out from beneath Ori without disturbing him. Ori, being so comfortable, let out a whine of protest and blearily opened his eyes just in time to see Dwalin hobbling out of the door while yanking his trousers up around his hips. His stride was all too familiar to Ori –it was that of someone who needed to run to the privy, but if they ran, they would wet themselves.

Ori quietly chuckled to himself and rolled over onto his stomach. Looking at the candles on his table, he knew that it was morning; they were the slow-burning candles that Dwalin used when . Scrunching his nose up, he closed his eyes and turned away from the light; he would properly wake up with Dwalin came back.

It wasn’t long before he returned, one hand still tying his trousers closed. His brow rose as he saw his lover sprawled across the bed, taking up the entire mattress. He quietly chuckled and sat down on the edge of the bed, his hand once more brushing some hair from his face.

“Good morning,” Ori mumbled, taking him by surprise.

“Didn’t think yeh were awake,” Dwalin replied, grinning.

“Well, when you ran off for the privy, I woke up.” He sighed and pushed himself upright only to yawn and plop his chin on Dwalin’s shoulder. “Should we get breakfast at the Tankard or is Dís cooking for us?”

Dwalin kissed his temple. “Tankard; Dís will be joining us, though.”

He nodded in understanding. “And what about Balin?”

Shaking his head, Dwalin shifted and hooked his arm around Ori’s waist and pulled him closer to him. “Balin won’t be joining us, though he’ll be in Dale later for the festival.” He buried his face in Ori’s neck, sighing in content. “I love yeh.”

“Love you, too,” Ori smiled, nuzzling him. “Will you be wearin’ the eyepatch when we go to town?”

He shrugged. “Should I?”

Leaning over, Ori plucked up the eyepatch from Dwalin’s bedside table. He looked over the worked leather as he flopped backwards. “It’s quite lovely,” he told him, “and it would keep you from sloshing ale into your eye socket when you’ve had too much to drink.”

At that, Dwalin pouted. He reclined back, propping his head on his hand beside Ori. “Now why would I be wastin’ good ale in such a horrid way?” he asked, starting to finger-comb Ori’s hair. “Yer hair is such a mess, lad…”

Brow rising, Ori chuckled. “I wonder why…?” he playfully mused. “It’s not like someone fancies running their hand through my hair while I’m trying to sleep.”

Dwalin rolled his eye, but grinned. “Very funny, love.” He flipped one of Ori’s braids onto his face, earning a small, surprised curse. “Consider it revenge for all the times yeh mess up _my_ hair durin’… _other_ activities.”

A cheeky grin came to Ori’s reddening features. “Ah, but you love every minute of it,” he smirked. He let out a small yelp as Dwalin suddenly rolled atop him, pinning him against the mattress.

“I think yeh like it more,” he purred, leaving teasing kisses along Ori’s shoulder. His hand slid down Ori’s bare side, making its way towards his thigh. He was just about to kiss his lips when a loud knock rang out through the still air.

“Dwalin?” Dís’ voice rang out. “Is Ori up yet? There is already a flood of dwarrows making their way into town and it is only just past sun-up! We will never get breakfast at this rate!”

A heavy sigh left Dwalin’s mouth and he reluctantly pulled back from the smaller dwarrow. “We’re gettin’ dressed, my lady,” he called out. “We’ll be down in a minute.” Cocking his head, he listened as Dís’ steps faded down the hallway. Looking down at Ori, he gave him an apologetic smile. “Tonight –after we’ve drunk plenty at the festival.”

Sitting up, Ori kissed his chin. “I’m going t’ hold you to that.”

 

* * *

 

 

Baylee felt odd, watching Wenna, Demelza, and Peter bringing food to people and refilling their drinks. She was not used to sitting idle instead of running around the inn, helping to serve people –especially when the common room was so full. It’s not that she hadn’t tried serving people; it was that as soon as Demelza and Galiene found her waiting tables, they took the tray from her hands and sat her down in the corner with Bofur and Bifur. Galiene wouldn’t even let her help by peeling vegetables; instead, she had Gawen and Warren doing that job.

What helped, though, was Lovisa sitting across from her, also begrudgingly accepting the fact that no one would let them help.

‘Am able to help,’ she sighed with her free hand, the other holding a mug of tea to her mouth. ‘Is small wound!’

“It’s not small, Lovisa,” Baylee lightly scolded. “I’ve seen it and by Mahal’s beard, Lovisa –you were _stabbed_ through the _breast_.” She took a drink of her own tea. “It’s a wonder ya didn’t bleed out…”

“Tended wound,” Bifur told her. “Know tend wound.” He tapped the axe in his head. “Trust.”

Bofur snorted into his eggs. “Bifur, you weren’t the one who tended t’ that wound –tha’ was Gerdi!”

Bifur raised his brow as he munched on some toast. ‘Have tended to plenty of wounds in life and know it!’ he scolded in Iglishmêk. ‘Remember after War? Saved life.’

A cheeky grin wrinkled Bofur’s features. “An’ I’m very glad for that. Hard t’ believe it was five years t’ the day…” As the memories flooded into his and Bifur’s minds, their mirthful expressions slowly sank into mournful looks.

Lovisa and Baylee, too, began remembering that horrible day. Sighing, Lovisa leaned over and kissed Bifur’s temple, her arm wrapping around his shoulders. Baylee, on the other hand, merely rested her head on Bofur’s shoulder, her eyes closing.

“By my beard! Is it packed in here or what?”

The four of them jumped in surprise before turning and seeing Dwalin, Ori, and Dís entering the inn. Spotting them, Ori gave them a small wave before tugging on Dwalin and Dís’ sleeves, leading them towards the table. Luckily, there were just enough stools left for their companions, but regardless, Bofur and Bifur stood up from their chairs and bowed low to Dís.

“My lady, it’s good t’ see ya again,” Bofur told her, sweeping his hat across the floor. “I trust ya had a-ack!” As soon as he had stood upright, Dís pulled him against her in a tight hug. Chuckling, he returned the embrace, lightly patting her on the back.

“Bofur, I am so glad to see you again!” Dís smiled, pulling back. There was a fond smile on her features as she looked her friend over. He hadn’t change much in the years since she last saw him, though the scars across his face were a new addition –and his mustache was nearly three inches longer. “Time is treating you well, old friend.”

“An’, you, my lady, are still as beautiful as a star-filled sky,” he replied.

Dís chuckled, lightly patting him on the shoulder. “You always were a flatterer,” she mused. She glanced past him to Baylee and Lovisa, giving them each a warm smile. “Good morning, Lady Baylee, Lady Lovisa. I trust you’re doing well?” She sat down, lightly waving her hand at Bofur as he tried to offer his chair to her.

‘Well enough,’ Lovisa replied, watching as Baylee leaned back to catch Wenna’s skirt. ‘Not used to not helping around here. Feel useless!’

At that, Dís laughed. “I would imagine! And when the place is as busy as this…?” She looked around. “Despite it being so full, this inn has a rather cozy feeling to it,” she added.

“Aye; that’s one o’ the reasons why we like it so much,” Dwalin agreed. “Tha’, and yer drinks are never left empty once yeh get ‘em.”

Baylee let out a small cough, drawing attention to her and Wenna. “So, what’s everyone goin’ t’ have for breakfast?” She was more than a little thankful that the dwarves were keeping their orders short and small this morning; Wenna didn’t have nearly as good of a memory as she and it also meant that Galiene and Gawen wouldn’t have much more cooking do to. She did, however, make sure to pay attention to the orders, just in case Wenna forgot something later on.

“So, what sorts of activities are going on today? Do you know?” Ori asked after Wenna brought him, Dwalin, and Dís their drinks. “I mean, surely there’s got to be some sort o’ games taking place.”

“There’s archery an’ horse racin’ out in the fields,” Baylee answered, “as well as joustin’ an’ some duels. In town, there are other things –mostly games for the wee ones. Bobbin’ for apples, scavenger hunts, that sort o’ thing.” She took a sip from her tea, a small grin coming to her lips as Bofur hooked his arm around her waist.

‘Do not forget eating, drinking,’ Lovisa added, smirking. ‘Much of those today!’

Bofur snorted into his drink. “Uh-oh. Bifur, we’d best warn the townsfolk before Bombur an’ his brood show up. Once they get here, everything’ll be gone before anyone else can get ahold o’ a bite!”

A quiet chuckle came from Bifur, who lightly shook his head. “Blugzu yothûrablug.”

“Oh, aye, I know,” Bofur grinned, “but Bombur an’ his brood are ten dwarrows! I can only eat a fraction o’ what they can put away.”

“Oh, don’t be a liar!” Dwalin grinned. “I’ve seen yeh pack away twice as much food as Bombur before!”

Baylee giggled. “I’ve got to agree with him,” she admitted, “especially after havin’ lived with Bombur an’ his family for the last few weeks.”

Bofur pouted slightly. “Well, then, I guess it just runs in the family.” He watched as a group of about ten humans got up from their table and left, a couple straggling behind to finish draining their tankards. Just a few seconds after they left, another group –this time, a mixture of elves and humans- left. “Seems like the place is startin’ t’ clear up.”

“Well, a lot o’ people have stalls t’ set up,” Ori told him. “It’s not all about fun and games today, after all. It’s a good day to make a profit with the crowds.”

Dís nodded. “That is true. If I recall, Dori is going to have a stall open, selling tea and wine,” she added. “I will have to pay him a visit later to see if he has any ice wine…”

“Mmm…He may not have such an expensive item out in the open,” Ori told her, “but I’m sure you could discuss it with him.” He took a long drink from his ale before sucking the foam out of his mustache. “I can say, however, that he will have some peach wines an’ some lemon alcohol from the east.”

Cocking her head, Baylee leaned forward. “They can make alcohol out o’ lemons?”

“Don’t you remember having some when we were in Dorwinion?” he asked, puzzled.

“No. Then again, I didn’t get much alcohol after I lost me fingers. Vlasta said it wasn’t good to drink after losing all that blood.”

He nodded in understanding. “That is true. Despite her roughness, she was surprisingly thoughtful an’ good with medicine…” Rubbing the back of his neck, he couldn’t help but glance at Baylee’s hands, the memories of that time coming back to him.

“Onto happier subjects!” Bofur suddenly interjected, trying to liven the mood. “ I think I see our breakfasts comin’!”

Bofur was right: Wenna and Peter were coming towards them, each carrying two platters of food. Despite the dwarves having not order much, there was still quite a few plates crammed onto the one, small table. With the inn seemingly beginning to empty, Bifur got up and pulled over a second table and moved some of the food onto it so they wouldn’t be as crowded.

They were in the midst of their meal when a small commotion broke out behind them. Turning, Baylee saw Will and Demelza standing near the hearth while Adela, nestled in the cushiest chair, lightly rocked Folki.

“C’mon, love –you’ve got a _wonderful_ voice. One song couldn’t hurt,” Will was telling the redhead. “I’m sure no one will mind.”

“I can’t think o’ a song that’ll suit the festive mood, though!” Adela laughed, shaking her head.

Demelza shrugged, sipping from a large tankard. “I’m sure there’s _somethin’_ you could sing,” she said, agreeing with her nephew. “It doesn’t need to be a serious song.”

At that, Will smirked. “It could be a bawdy shanty,” he teased, earning a look from his aunt.

“Sing the one ‘bout the peasant an’ the noblewoman!” Baylee called with a cheeky grin.

Adela looked at her, startled. “Oh come now, don’t be a fool –tha’ song needs drums t’ keep the beat and we haven’t got any right now. Name somethin’ else.”

In perfect unison, the twins began to drum out the rhythm of the song, Baylee using the tabletop and Will using the wood of the mantle. Picking up the beat, Bifur and Ori joined in with the drumming, earning a few hoots from the patrons still dining. Both Will and Baylee wore matching grins as Adela let out a sigh of defeat and playfully rolled her eyes. She stood and turned the chair around before sitting again, though her posture was straighter, for she started to sing:

 

_One warm summer’s night_

_He rode into sight_

_On a wild mare that was so perfectly white_

_I’d dreamed he’d return_

_And I was right_

_Wishes can come true when you wish with all your might…_

_One look in his eyes_

_I had realized_

_His life was so simple he had no disguise_

_He lived day to day, no promise he would stay_

_But in these few words he stole my heart away_

 

By that point in the song, Will had started dancing with Demelza, who was laughing as she cursed his mischievousness. Grinning, Bifur hopped to his feet and dragged Lovisa out of her chair to dance as well; unlike Demelza, Lovisa didn’t have a qualm with being forced into a dance. They weren’t the only ones, either –many of the patrons were beginning to dance around the tables. Not one to miss a dance, Baylee hopped to feet, tugging Bofur with her. Dís, Dwalin, and Ori stayed behind, picking up the slack of the missing drummers and laughing as they watched the others.

_He said:_

_“My life’s not lead_

_Through power or greed_

_I am but a poor man_

_When I’m cut I bleed_

_A more humble man you never will meet_

_And here is my heart for only you to keep…”_

_In the shade of the willow tree_

_My poor peasant promised to me_

_No scholarly thoughts, he couldn’t pay high costs_

_And sometimes it feels like he’s totally lost_

_But he said this true and he said it loud_

_“I promise you my heart with this solemn vow…”_

_One warm summer night,_

_He rode out of sight_

_On a wild mare that was so perfectly white_

_I’d dreamed he’d return and I was right_

_Wishes can come true when you wish with all your might…_

_In the shade of the willow tree_

_My poor peasant promised to me…_

* * *

 

Three hours later found Baylee and Bofur wandering around town, which was still fairly crowded as the games in the fields had yet to start. Bofur lightly held onto Baylee’s hand, feeling quite content to let her drag him around to various vendors and street games. For the most part, they merely looked things over, but she had managed to talk Bofur into letting her buy them some cheese and bread.

“There are a lot more elves than I would have expected t’ see,” he admitted as they sat down on one of the city’s many fountains. “Not that it’s a bad thing or anythin’…just surprising.”

“Well, they also fought in the Battle,” she reminded him. “I wonder if Tauriel is going t’ be visitin’ the inn tonight…? It’s always fun t’ have her around.” She took a small bite out of her cheese, smiling as she watched a group of children racing around the area, balancing eggs on spoons held betwixt their teeth.

His brow rose. “Tauriel?” he questioned, taking a bite out of his bread.

“Aye; she’s the captain o’ Thranduil’s guard. The soldiers under her say she’s one o’ the few people in Middle Earth who can make Prince Legolas lighten up a bit an’ actually crack a smile.”

“Tha’ so? I thought all elves were all about merriment an’ smilin’?”

She shrugged. “Some more than others, I guess. Thranduil an’ Legolas hardly ever smile. _I’ve_ never seen ‘em smile.”

“You’ve seen them both?”

“Only once or twice,” she admitted. “Both times after the Battle…” She scrunched her nose up and looked down at her wedge of cheese; she had eaten half of it, but suddenly, she wasn’t very hungry anymore. Offering it to Bofur, she glanced around to see what vendors were nearby.

Bofur looked at her, concerned as he took the cheese from her. “Are ya feelin’ alright, âzying? Dancin’ earlier didn’t wear you out, did it?”

“I’m fine,” she assured him, smiling. Kissing his nose, she lightly flicked his braid over his shoulder. “Just…I remembered I have t’ visit the graveyard.”

He cocked his head. “The graveyard?”

She nodded as she counted some pieces of silver. “I want t’ see my mother’s grave,” she quietly explained. “Tell her tha’ we’re doin’ alright. That sort o’ thing. You can wander around for a bit; I’ll find ya later.”

Setting his hand atop hers, he gave it a small squeeze. “You sure you don’t want me t’ come with?”

Baylee shrugged, trying to act normal. “Ya don’t have t’ if you don’t want. It’s a graveyard –it’s a downer o’ a place. Not really somewhere ya should be on a day like today.”

Bofur wore a knowing smile as he gave her hand a second squeeze. “I think that’s why I should come with ya,” he told her. Sitting up a bit higher, he gave her a soft kiss. “Anyway, I think it’s only fair that I pay respects t’ the woman who raised the love o’ my life. Takes an amazin’ person t’ raise another amazin’ person, after all.” Giving her a second kiss, he cradled her hands in his.

Neither of them noticed the strange looks they garnered from some members of the crowd.

She quietly laughed and rested her forehead against his. “You’re a damned sweetheart, ya know that?” she murmured.

He looked thoughtful for a moment before shrugging. “Eh…I guess I can be,” he joked. “But only because it’s easier than bein’ an arsehole. It takes so much work t’ get people t’ hate ya; far too much work for this lazy bum!” He brushed the crumbs off of himself before standing.

“Oh, aye. I mean, you’re one o’ the laziest people I know,” she giggled, standing up as well. “Positively sluggish.” She went towards a vender, where she bought a small bouquet of dried lilies. Bofur followed alongside her as she ducked into an alleyway.

It wasn’t a very long walk to the graveyard, though it was surprisingly quiet. As they neared the western edge of the city, the music and laughter died away and the crowds thinned. Within ten minutes, it was just the two of them passing through a white-stone gate, the cobblestoned road transforming into soft grass parted by a simple gravel path. Ancient willow trees scattered the land around them, their leaves protecting the headstones and tombs of the dead.

Bofur rubbed his arm as he glanced around. He knew he would never be able to get over the sort of creepy feeling that came with being surrounded by graves, but he did his best to hide his discomfort. Peeking up at Baylee, he saw that she had plucked up a lock of her hair and had started to chew on the ends of it.

“Don’t do that, âzying,” he quietly told her, reaching up and tucking the hair behind her ear. “Ya just got your hair back; can’t go eatin’ it away again.”

“Sorry,” she told him, wearing an embarrassed smile. “It’s just an unconscious thing when I’m nervous.”

Nodding in understanding, he slid his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him. “I know how ya feel, âzying,” he sighed.

“Do you?”

“Aye, though…not quiet in the ‘showin’ my lover my mother’s grave’ way. More o’ just knowin’ what it’s like t’ visit the grave o’ someone ya love.”

She looked down at him. “Your parents?”

Bofur shook his head. “Nah. Well, I mean I’ve visited their graves, but it had been their time t’ return t’ the earth, ya know? It wasn’t so sad t’ see ‘em leave. But…” He took his hat off and scratched the top of his head before putting his hat on once more. “Truth be told, Baylee, you’re not the first love in my life.”

To his surprise, Baylee nodded in understanding. “Aye, I know.”

“You do?” he asked, startled. “How?”

“Some things the other lads have said, but I don’t know any details.”

He unconsciously reached for the older warg tooth dangling from his ear. “Well…As ya can guess, she’s gone.” With a heavy sky, he looked up towards the sky. “Had t’ have been nearly thirty years ago now…Kaia an’ I were travelin’ back from the southern tip o’ the Blue Mountains with some other dwarrows.” Looking back down at the ground, he lightly kicked a stone out of the path. He hadn’t noticed that they had come to stop before a fairly recent tomb.

“We were ambushed by a small pack o’ wargs. Most o’ us only got minor injuries -cuts an’ bruises an’ the like- but she…” Shaking his head, he swallowed hard, trying to fight the tears the memory brought. “She died in my arms. We were goin’ t’ be married the next week.”

Bofur suddenly found himself wrapped up in Baylee’s arms, his face buried in the crook of her neck. He let out no sobs, but a few stray tears had managed to trickle their way down his cheeks as she lightly stroked his hair. Sighing, he closed his eyes and held her as close as possible.

“S’why I was so scared when the wargs attacked us in the east,” he mumbled. “When I saw ya an’ Will…I thought it had been tha’ day all over again. You have no idea how hard I prayed t’ Mahal an’ Estë t’ keep the two o’ you alive. I don’t think I could have lived if ya had passed on…”

Continuing to stroke his hair, Baylee let out a quiet sight. “Don’t say that,” she murmured. “You’re strong…an’ you’ve got family an’ friends ya had t’ live for.” Pulling back slightly, she gave him a gentle, lingering kiss. Using her sleeves, she wiped away his tears, not caring that her cheeks were damp from tears of her own. She smiled lovingly at him as she kissed his nose. “An’ now you don’t have t’ know what it’d be like, because I’m right here an’ Will’s a happy, new daddy.”

Raising his hand, he cupped her scarred cheek and said nothing, instead choosing to just stare into her eyes. “I won’t ever let ya come t’ harm like that again,” he whispered after some minutes. “Not if I can help it. I swear on Mahal’s sacred anvil, I’m goin’ t’ keep ya as safe as I can.”

“I know you will,” she assured him, her hand resting over his. She glanced away from him, her gaze falling on the statue before them. “An’ I’m sure my mother approves o’ that promise.”

Looking at the stone figure, Bofur saw that it was carved in the likeness of a woman bearing a sword and shield. She stood guard atop a rectangular grave, her gaze fixed ever southwards. She was clad in a simple dress, but she also wore pieces of armor –vambraces, pauldrons, and a chainmail cowl protected her. Bofur couldn’t help but notice that she and Baylee looked remarkably similar –they even shared the same too-big front teeth.

“She was the only human woman t’ die durin’ the Battle o’ Five Armies,” Baylee told him as she placed the dried flowers at the statue’s feet. Stepping back, she looked up at the face of her mother. “But because o’ her, a lot o’ people were saved.” For some reason, she felt relieved to be talking about Éolynna’s death with Bofur; she didn’t know why, but it felt as if an immense weight was being lifted from her shoulders.

Bofur gave her a small smile. “You helped, too. So did Demelza. All three o’ ya fought that day.”

She returned the look. “Aye, but it was mum who rallied us an’ those able t’ fight. I still swear tha’ if she had been in charge o’ our armies, we would have won tha’ battle a lot faster.” Turning back to the statue, she let out a small, content sigh. A tear slipped down her cheek, but she merely wiped it away. “You should have seen her, Bofur –I’ve seen how men fight an’ she was nothin’ like that. Men are harsh an’ clumsy but mum…It was like she was dancin’, she was so graceful. Funny, because she couldn’t dance worth a lick.”

“Well, clearly she was just off balance. Give her a sword an’ a shield an’ she would have been the best dancer in the city,” Bofur joked. He was more than a little pleased to hear that it earned a laugh. Glancing back at the statue, he tilted his head. “You know, you look just like her.”

A grin came to her features. “Aye. ‘Cept she was a good foot taller than me an’ was blonde.” She held out a lock of her hair, looking at it. “She used t’ say my hair got this way because Will rubbed ash in it when we were babies.”

“Knowin’ the two o’ you, I’d believe it,” he chuckled. “She sounds like she was a lovely woman. I wish I could have met her.”

Giving him a small hug, she kissed his cheek. “Maybe in another life, you can,” she told him. “But for now…I think it’s best we return t’ the festival.”

 

* * *

 

 

_Oh,_ _though the night be as dark as dungeon, not a star can be seen above_

_I will be guided without a stumble, into the arms of my own true love_

_I'm a rover, seldom sober, I'm a rover of high degree_

_It's when I'm drinkin' I'm always thinkin' how to gain my love's company_

_He stepped up to her bedroom window, kneeling gently upon a stone_

_He whispers through her bedroom window, my darling dear do you lie alone_

_I'm a rover, seldom sober, I'm a rover of high degree_

_It's when I'm drinkin' I'm always thinkin' how to gain my love's company…_

 

Zori let out a giggle as Nori ‘danced’ with him, the dwarf lightly waving his arms back and forth as he stood atop the bench. Whenever Nori came back to the chorus, he’d pluck Zori off of the table and give him a small toss into the air before catching him again. Zori had no idea that his father was currently quite tipsy from the vast quantities of ale and cider he had been sampling all day, but he wouldn’t have cared even if he did know –he was just happy that Nori was singing to him and being so playful.

 

_It's only me your own true lover, open the door and let me in_

_For I have come on a long nights journey and I'm near drenched to the skin_

_I'm a rover, seldom sober, I'm a rover of high degree_

_It's when I'm drinkin' I'm always thinkin' how to gain my love's company_

_She opened the door with the greatest pleasure, she opened the door and she let him in_

_They both shook hands and embraced each other, until the morning they lay as one_

 

“Figures he’d be singin’ a song ‘bout sneakin’ into ladies’ beds.”

Nori looked up just in time to see Dwalin and Ori sitting down across from him. Zori clapped as he saw his uncles, his eyes almost disappearing behind his chubby cheeks. “Oh, there’s no harm in it,” he chuckled. “I’m just singin’ to my son; clearly, he’s quite a fan.” Picking Zori up, he nuzzled his nose against Zori’s nose.

Ori’s brow rose. “Nori…how much have you had to drink today?” he asked, laughing.

“Not enough,” came Nori’s reply. He winced slightly as Zori grabbed the ends of his beard and tugged on them. “O-Ouch, lad –that’s not how ya make daddy dance.” Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a sweet biscuit which he lightly waved in front of Zori’s face.

It was the perfect distraction; Zori released Nori’s beard and grabbed at the food. As soon as he had a firm grasp on the biscuit, he dragged it to his mouth and started to gnaw on it. All the while, he grunted happily, sounding very much like a hungry animal.

Dwalin’s brow rose. “He’s startin’ t’ sound more an’ more like a wild animal. Have yeh fed him at all today?”

“O’ course I’ve fed him!” Nori frowned. “Just two hours ago, he had himself a nice, big dinner o’ mashed yams an’ steamed carrots!” He broke the biscuit in half, making it more manageable for Zori to gnaw on.

“If anything,” Ori piped up, “I think he sounds like Dwalin at meal time.”

Dwalin looked at him, confused. “Oi! I don’t make nearly as much racket.”

“No, you make far more,” Ori grinned. He then started to imitate his lover, pretending to grab some food and cramming it in his mouth. “Omnom –Gloin, pass ‘eh drink! Bombur, hand me tha’ leg o’ lamb!” He shoved more ‘food’ into his mouth. “Where’re the fish ‘eads at?”

Nori burst out laughing –Zori, too, but only because his daddy was laughing- as Dwalin rolled his eye. “Tha’s a good one, Ori! You’ll have t’ do that one for the lads when they get here!”

Ori cackled in glee only to abruptly shriek in surprise as Dwalin hooked an arm around his shoulders and proceeded to lightly grind his knuckles into his lover’s skull. “Ah! Stop! I won’t do it!” he laughed, trying to squirm away. “I won’t do it, I promise!”

“Don’t trust yeh, lad,” Dwalin grinned. “Yeh sassy wee bastard.”

“Uh-oh! Lovers’ quarrel in progress!”

The three of them glanced up as Bofur, Dís, and Baylee approached them. Scooting over, Nori picked Zori up and was about to set him in his lap, but the child was reaching for Baylee. Handing her tankard to Bofur, she plucked Zori up and blew a rather loud raspberry on his stomach, earning a squeal. Dís laughed as she watched Zori begin babbling to Baylee in his incomprehensible baby speech.

“Telling you about his day, is he?” she asked, sitting beside Dwalin.

“Oh, always,” Baylee grinned. “After all, he’s got such a rough life!” She nuzzled Zori’s cheek, earning a quiet giggle. “Look at you, tryin’ t’ stand all on your own! Soon enough, you’ll be runnin’ around, bein’ a wee terror!”

Nori laughed. “As if he isn’t already! You’ve seen how fast he can crawl –he’s been chasin’ Dori an’ Ori all through the house the last few days.”

Bofur snorted. “He was chasin’ _Dori_ o’ all dwarrows?”

“Only because Dori had a pocketful o’ biscuits,” Ori chuckled. “The three o’ you missed it earlier, though –Nori was singing and dancing with him.”

His brows furrowing, Nori pouted when he saw grins come to the other’s faces. “It’s a festival! It’s a time t’ be happy, so I thought I’d amuse my son with a spot o’ music.”

“What were you singin’ him?” Bofur inquired before taking a drink from his tankard. At least, he thought it was his tankard; it could have been Baylee’s. He couldn’t really remember what sort of drink he had gotten.

“ _I’m A Rover_ ,” Nori answered, pulling a second biscuit from his pocket. This one he popped into his mouth. “Jus’ a simple song, really. Nothin’ too long.”

Dís’ brow rose in mild amusement. “Fitting,” she commented. While she still didn’t entirely trust him, she had to admit that he was much better than when they were younger –even if he was drunk at the moment. The responsibility that came with parenthood was certainly doing him a wealth of good. “Though, I take it Zori enjoyed it?”

Dwalin nodded. “The wee lad was laughin’ his head off. If Nori’s voice wasn’t so hideous t’ listen to-”

“Oi! It’s nicer ‘n yours!” Nori argued. “You don’t even sing, you just sort o’…shout the words!”

“I shout ‘em melodically! Yeh can’t carry a tune in a bucket, let alone sing a whole song-”

“Lads!” Ori laughed. “Lads, settle down. Both o’ you have alright singin’ voices, but out o’ everyone present, I think we can all agree that it’s _Bofur_ who’s got the best voice.”

At that, Bofur sat up a bit straighter, smiling. “Why, thank-you, Ori,” he chirped. “I’d like t’ think I’ve meself a fine set o’ pipes.”

Dís rolled her eyes, but smiled. “What a humble bunch of males we have here,” she joked.

“Aren’t they? They’re just the most modest group around,” Baylee agreed, managing to hold Zori with one arm while she stole her tankard back with the other. She took a long drink from the mug only to realize, halfway through the chug, that it wasn’t her mug –she had gotten ale. What she had just consumed was mead. “Uh-oh,” she mumbled, staring into the tankard.

Dís glanced at her upon hearing the ‘uh-oh’. “What is wrong?” she asked, brows furrowing. “Is your drink off?”

Baylee looked up, her cheeks already rosy from the mead. “No, it’s…I just chugged half o’ Bofur’s mead, thinking it was my ale.”

At her words, Dwalin, Ori, and Nori cringed –and yet, they laughed. “Ooh, that’s not good,” Dwalin grinned. “Especially for a wee lil’ woman like yeh.”

“I was wonderin’ why my drink tasted funny,” Bofur laughed. He patted her on the shoulder. “It’s alright; I kind o’ drank all of your ale. You can finish the mead if ya want, âzying.”

Setting the tankard down, Baylee handed Zori back to his papa while shaking her head to Bofur’s comment. “No, no…I’m goin’ t’ be drunk in a few minutes as is,” she told him. “No need t’ drink more.”

“But that’s hardly enough mead t’ make anyone drunk,” Bofur frowned.

“Bofur,” Ori gently reminded him, “Baylee’s a lightweight, remember? There’s a reason a neat little lass like her only takes ale.”

At that, Baylee pouted. “I’m not Mary Mack,” she argued, “I like mead once in a while…just…not that much.” Despite her worse, she unconsciously took another drink of the alcohol.

“Mary Mack?” Nori asked, his brow raising. He did his best to hide a grin; the mead was working fast on the human and it was amusing the dwarves. “Who’s she?”

“Not so much a person as a song,” Baylee explained, wobbling slightly. “Good song, though a bit lewd in some parts. Most o’ it’s clean, though.”

“How’s it go then?” Ori asked, stifling his laughter. He couldn’t help but admit that it was funny seeing Baylee drunk.

Baylee thought for a moment and scooted closer to Bofur so she could rest her head on his shoulder. Then she took another drink of the mead before starting:

 

_There’s a neat lil’ lass an’ her name is Mary Mack_

_Make no mistake, she’s the girl I’m goin’ t’ take_

_Lots o’ other fellas try t’ lay her on her back_

_But I’m thinkin’ they’ll have t’ get up early_

_Mary Mack’s father’s makin’ Mary Mack marry me_

_My father’s makin’ me marry Mary Mack_

_Well I’m goin’ t’ marry Mary for when Mary’s takin’ care o’ me_

_We’ll all be feelin’ merry when I marry Mary Mack_

_Now Mary an’ her mother are an awful lot together_

_In fact you hardly see the one without the other_

_An’ people often wonder if it’s Mary or her mother_

_Or both o’ them together I am courtin’!_

_Mary Mack’s father’s makin’ Mary Mack marry me_

_My father’s makin’ me marry Mary Mack_

_Well I’m goin’ t’ marry Mary for when Mary’s takin’ care o’ me_

_We’ll all be feelin’ merry when I marry Mary Mack_

_Now this wee lass she has a lot o’ brass_

_She has a lot o’ gas an’ her father thinks I’m class_

_So I’d be a silly ass t’ let the matter pass_

_Her father thinks she suits me fairly_

“An’ then it just repeats, getting’ faster an’ faster an’ faster,” Baylee chirped, suddenly ending the song. “It’s a good one t’ dance to –lots o’ spilling. But don’t drink or eat before dancin’ to it! The contents o’ your stomach will end up all over the place. Just ask Will. Happened t’ him last year. Biggest mess I’ve had t’ clean up.”

“Huh. When Baylee’s drunk, she rambles like Bofur when he’s sober,” Dwalin commented.

“Hey now,” Bofur frowned, pulling Baylee closer. “The lass can ramble if she wants.”

“Nothin’ wrong with it,” Dwalin laughed. “Just proves the two o’ yeh are a good match.”

Nori snorted. “Kind o’ like how Ori can imitate you almost perfectly? How did it go again, Ori?”

Ori cracked up. “I promised I wouldn’t do it again! I’m goin’ to stick by my word.”

Baylee glanced up. “Aw, c’mon –Bofur, Dís, an’ I missed it the first time!”

Shaking his head, Ori chuckled. “No, no…”

Dwalin gave him a small nudge and glanced away. “Eh, go ahead an’ do it. She’s drunk; she won’t remember it in the morning anyway.”

Doing as he was told, Ori started to imitate Dwalin’s eating habits again. He was more than a little amused when everyone burst out in laughter for a second time. It was when Baylee giggled so hard, she started to fall backwards that made him lose it. Bofur when to catch her, but he was just a bit too late; they both ended up falling off of the bench, which only made succeeded in making Baylee laugh harder.

Dís shook her head, wearing a smile. Taking a sip from her warmed cider, she cracked up as Baylee bolted upright, proclaiming that her drink hadn’t spilled, so everything was alright. Dwalin got up and hoisted the two of them back into the bench while laughing about how they needed to get some food in their stomachs before they were allowed anymore alcohol. Nori, meanwhile, was making faces at Zori, trying to distract him from grabbing at Ori’s braids.

It may have been the anniversary of the day she lost her family, but she was quickly growing fond of the new one forming around her.


	33. Chapter Thirty-Three

Dark, grey clouds covered the sky, scattering a white blanket of snow across the Lonely Mountain and the city of Dale. Human children and dwarvish children alike ran around, bundled up in heavy, wool cloaks and mittens as they threw snowballs, built snowmen, and crafted snow forts with one another. Not caring much for age, they would hit each other with snowballs as well as their parents and anyone else who passed by their games.

It wasn’t only children participating in snow-filled shenanigans, however.

A shriek of laughter echoed through the courtyard of the Full Tankard, quickly followed by the sound of snow hitting glass. Galiene poked her head over the sill and shook her head as she saw Adela duck behind the well, a snowball narrowly missing her bum. Across the yard, Baylee held the lid of a barrel as she kept her back to a corner while, nearer to the stables, Wenna was crouched behind a wooden cart.

“Those girls…you’d think the lot of them were still in their teens!” she chuckled, wiping her hands on her apron.

“They certainly sound like it,” Warren grinned. He didn’t lift his eyes from the carrots he was slicing. “It’s good, though. I’m glad ‘Lee is walkin’ ‘round just fine. Same with Adela. As for Wenna, well…the lass needs t’ throw all her energy _somewhere_ since business has been so slow.”

Galiene laughed. “Well, when it’s cold, people prefer t’ stay indoors. Unlike Demelza an’ Richard.” She shook her head, more in disbelief this time. “Can’t believe they’ve gone t’ Lake Town in this weather.”

Shrugging, Warren scooped up the carrot rounds and put them into a bowl. “That’s what happens when family gets sick, though –ya go tend t’ them.”

Tasting the broth for some soup, Galiene sighed and added in some dried herbs. “That is true,” she mused. “Hm. Needs more pepper…” Adding the pepper, she glanced out the window once more. “How’re the carrots comin’?”

“Almost done,” he replied. “Anythin’ else ya need me t’ do after this?”

“If ya could get me the cured beef from the lower pantry, that’d be nice.”

“How much o’ it?”

She thought for a moment before shrugging. “Enough t’ feed two dwarves, Will, an’ yourself,” she joked.

Warren laughed as well. “Will do.”

Stirring the broth again, Galiene sighed and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. Grabbing a much smaller pot, she went to grab her ladle only to find that it was missing. She frowned and looked around; it wasn’t by the stove, nor was it by or in the sink. She leaned over and peered out the window yet again  –just in time to see Wenna using the ladle to fling snow at Baylee, who blocked it with her ‘shield’.

Going to the door, she opened it and put her hands on her hips. “Wenna! What in the world gave ya the idea t’ use my ladle o’ all things in a _snowball_ fight?”

Wenna looked up, her gold curls bouncing about her red cheeks. “Er…Well…” She yelped and stumbled sideways as Adela pegged the side of her face with snow. “That was cheating!” Quickly scooping snow into the ladle, she flung it at Adela and ducked back down behind the cart. She knew she was not in trouble; in fact, she heard Galiene simply laugh before returning inside.

Baylee was just shaping a snowball when something caught her attention. Coming into the courtyard were Will and Bard, both of whom seemed to be oblivious to the girls. Baylee held up her hand, signaling for a stop to be brought to the shenanigans. Despite this, she wore a wicked grin as she pointed at the two men.

Simultaneously, Bard and Will let out shouts of surprise as they were suddenly bombarded with snowballs. From all sides they were pelted, though the assault only lasted half a minute. Will looked up, his eyes wide in shock and horror –snow had managed to slip down the back of his shirt.

“What in the world was that for!?” he cried, doing a funny dance as he tried to get the snow out of his shirt. “Can’t two blokes get some lunch without gettin’ hit by snow?!”

Baylee snorted, blocking a snowball sent flying at her by Bard. “Your fault for walkin’ into a battle zone!” she giggled.

“She’s right, love,” Adela smirked. She had one hand on her hip while the other lightly tossed a snowball into the air before catching it again. “You’re lucky Wenna here didn’t get ya –she’s got quite the aim with that ladle.”

Bard, who had been readying a second snowball, grinned. “He didn’t, but I did,” he replied. He shook his head and snow fell out of his dark locks. “I certainly wasn’t expecting _this_ when Will promised me a good bowl o’ soup, that’s for sure!” He aimed the snowball at Baylee, but at the last second, threw it at Wenna, pegging her in the face.

Wenna let out a squeal, trying to brush the snow off her face, but some of it managed to slip down the collar of her dress. It was her turn to do a silly dance.

Walking over to her husband, Adela stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek. “Your da’ is helping Galiene make lunch,” she told him, “so it may be a while yet before the soup’s done.”

Will managed to get the last bit of snow out of his shirt, his nose scrunching up as he shivered. “That’s fine…it’ll give us some time t’ warm up with a bit o’ mulled wine,” he told her, a small grin coming to his lips.

“Mmm…Mulled wine sounds good about now,” Baylee agreed, walking towards a barrel. Replacing the lid, she turned around and froze as she saw Will, Wenna, and Adela wearing large grins. “What…? Why are you lot lookin’ at me like that?”

“You’re not allowed t’ have anythin’ stronger than ale, remember?” Adela giggled.

Bard cocked his brow as Baylee groaned. “Why is that?” he inquired, glancing at the redhead.

“Oh,” mused Adela, “nothin’ too bad. The night o’ the festival, Baylee just got a _wee_ bit drunk…”

Will snorted. “A ‘wee’ bit? That’s an understatement.”

“It wasn’t my fault that my drink got switched with Bofur’s,” Baylee pouted, taking off her mittens and smacking them together to get the clumps of snow off of them. “Aye, the mead was tasty, but it’s not like I _meant_ t’ drink it.”

Wenna covered her mouth as she burst out giggling. “Either way, the two o’ you were adorable,” she managed to say, her whole body being shaken by her laughter.

Bard glanced at Baylee, finding her cheeks to be beet red. “Dare I ask what happened?”

“We found Baylee an’ Bofur fast asleep under a table the next mornin’,” Will laughed. “The two o’ them had mighty hangovers the next day.”

“As did half the town,” Bard chuckled, somewhat amused.

Baylee groaned. “It’s not _that_ funny,” she protested. “Why do you lot keep bringin’ that up when ya could be talkin’ ‘bout how Dwalin, Nori, an’ Ori were dancin’ around without their shirts? That seems more o’ a highlight t’ the night than anything, especially since _Dwalin_ started it.”

Will patted her atop head. “Because, dear sister, we _don’t_ want t’ remember the sight o’ that.”

Adela and Wenna shrugged in unison. “I don’t know,” the redhead chirped, “Dwalin’s not too bad without his shirt.”

Wenna waved her hand. “No, no –it’s Nori who looked quite good without his shirt. The nicely braided beard helped a lot, though.” She thoughtfully scratched her chin. “Ori’s not so bad, either. He was more adorable ‘n handsome, though. Dwalin was a wee bit scary.”

“Are ya jokin’? Did ya _not_ see the muscles o’ his stomach?” Adela gaped. “Ya could use ‘em as a washboard!” She grinned at the thought.

“An’ that’s _exactly_ why he was a wee bit scary,” Wenna told her, matter-of-factly. “When muscles are tha’ defined, it gets a bit scary an’ gross.”

“I’ll second that motion,” Baylee giggled, noticing how disturbed Bard and Will looked. “C’mon –enough about dwarves. Let’s head inside before these two freeze t’ death.” She motioned for them to start walking. “Anyway, Bofur is the most handsome dwarf, shirtless or not.”

Will cocked his brow, looking down at his sister. “And you know what he looks like shirtless how…?” He watched her cheeks get just a touch darker.

“Before Ori an’ I were kidnapped,” she replied without missing a beat, “saw him comin’ out o’ the bathin’ room while still puttin’ his shirt on. That’s how.” A cheeky grin spread across her lips.

He didn’t seem convinced. “That better be the only way you’ve seen him shirtless,” he muttered, his voice loud enough for her ears only, “otherwise he’s a dead dwarf.”

She frowned and elbowed him in the side. “Now that’s the pot callin’ the kettle black,” she replied.

Coming into the kitchen, the five humans stamped the snow off their boots and brushed it off their cloaks. Wenna offered to take their cloaks and coats before heading off to hang them up in the common room. Will and Adela led Bard out there as well while Baylee grabbed a basket and started to fill it with food.

Galiene cocked her brow. “What’re you doin’ lass?” she asked, cubing up some cured beef.

“Gettin’ some lunch ready for Bofur an’ Bifur,” she replied, standing on her tiptoes in an attempt to grab some bread. “They’ve been makin’ toys at the shop for the last few days, since they’re runnin’ low on a few things. Knowin’ them, they’re too lost in the craft t’ realize what time it is.”

“Sometimes it’s hard for me t’ remember tha’ you’re Bofur’s lover an’ not his mother what with how well ya take care o’ him,” Galiene teased.

“Oh, ha-ha.”

 

* * *

 

 

The backroom of the shop smelled heavily of carved wood and dust. An inch of wood shavings covered the floor around Bofur and Bifur’s feet as they quietly whittled away on toy soldiers and rocking animals. On the table before them (and on the counters behind them), there were stacks of animals, soldiers, dolls, and even a few sleds were resting against the wall.

It was this mess that Baylee walked in on. Her brow rose and she gingerly swept aside some of the shavings before stepping into the room. Greeting the dwarves, she wasn’t entirely surprised when neither of them really replied –Bifur had grunted at her, but she was positive it wasn’t a grunt of acknowledgement.

“Well then. I’ll tidy up a bit, shall I?” she chuckled, setting the basket of food down on the only bit of counter space. She shivered slightly; the fire had died out hours ago and hadn’t been rebuilt since. She shook her head and made a mental note to rebuild it. Taking up a broom, she started to sweep, doing her best to gather everything into one corner for easier scooping. “Ya know, you two missed a wonderful snowball fight earlier. Us lasses managed t’ ambush Will an’ Bard.”

Bofur muttered something in Khuzdul as his knife slipped.

“Oh, aye –it was loads o’ fun seein’ Will dance around like a chicken as he tried t’ get snow out o’ his shirt,” she chirped. “Poor Bard, though –he was mostly confused by everything. Oh! Apparently Wenna an’ Adela found Nori an’ Dwalin rather attractive when they were dancin’ ‘round without their shirts durin’ the festival.”

Bifur cursed as he cut his thumb, but didn’t look up from the rocking horse he was making. Instead, he wiped his thumb on his trousers and continued working.

“So scandalous, I know.” Finishing the sweeping, she started to move the piles of toys from the table into neat rows on the counters. This was a harder job, as there was less counter space to work with than what she had anticipated.

When twenty minutes had passed, she finally had the area in good enough condition to lay out the food. Then, when she had finished that task, she quickly made a fire using handfuls of the wood shavings (which, she found, were excellent starters) and the timber piled up beside the hearth. Finally, she went over and plucked the toy soldier from Bofur’s hands and pulled the rocking horse away from Bifur.

It was as if a firework had gone off, they were so startled.

“By my beard, Baylee! Give us a warnin’ next time!” Bofur cried, having fallen off of his stool. Across from him Bifur was going off in a string of Khuzdul, his eyes wide in surprise.

Cocking her brow, Baylee motioned to the somewhat-cleaned room. “I _did_ give ya a bit o’ a warning _,_ ” she gently scolded. “I even talked t’ ya, but you were so absorbed in your work, you didn’t notice.” Smirking, she leaned over and helped pull Bofur back onto his chair before kissing his cheek. “But, if ya lads don’t want this lunch I brought for ya…”

“Food?” Bifur mumbled, still a bit dazed. His eyes widened again as he found his workplace filled, not with tools, but with a bowl of hot soup and a platter of still-warm cheesy bread. “Aha! Food! Thank-you,” he grinned before starting to dig in.

“By the beards o’ the ancients, âzying!” Bofur exclaimed, seeing two plates of cheese and two bottles of cider as well as a plate of biscuits. Wearing a large grin, he kissed her cheek before also diving into the food.

Rolling her eyes with a chuckle, she pulled up a stool beside Bofur. “How long have the two o’ you been working?”

As he chewed a bit of cheese, Bifur stroked his beard thoughtfully. “Morning,” he answered. “Before sun.”

Her brow rose. “…Did the two o’ you even have breakfast then?” she asked, stealing a biscuit to dip into her soup.

“You know…I don’t remember,” Bofur sheepishly replied. “All week, we’ve been more focused on makin’ toys than anything.” He hid a yawn behind his hand; Baylee could see the dark circles under his eyes.

Frowning, she reached over and brushed some specks of wood from his hair. “I think the two o’ ya should take the rest o’ the night off. Get some rest. Ya look utterly exhausted.”

Bofur shook his head as he simply gulped his soup straight from the bowl. “No, love, we can’t do that. Once us dwarrows set about doin’ somethin’, we need t’ get it done or else it’ll itch in the back o’ our minds _until_ it’s done. Right now, for example –I’m really wantin’ t’ get back t’ work on that wee soldier, but I know I need t’ eat.” He gave her a small smile. “It’s how we are. But! We’re almost done. I think I’ve only got three soldiers left an’ Bifur’s got the one rockin’ horse.”

Resting her hand on her knee, Baylee looked over her shoulder at the small army of toys. “I would hope. I mean, I think you’ve got enough toys here t’ keep the whole town happy for a good, long while,” she chuckled.

Bifur nodded in agreement. “Many toys…many happy,” he told her before breaking off a piece of the cheesy bread. He pressed a chunk of cheese into the middle of it, rolled it up in his hands, and took a bite from it.

Bofur reached under the table and gave Baylee’s stool a small tug, dragging her closer to him. “How’s your day been, âzying?” he inquired, uncorking a bottle of cider.

“Slow, for the most part. Though, we had a snowball fight in the courtyard,” she grinned. “It ended when Will an’ Bard walked in…an’ us three girls pegged them in the face with snow.”

The two males snorted. “Ya know, anywhere else in Middle Earth an’ you’d be thrown in jail for assaulting a king like that,” Bofur joked.

“Then I’ll count my lucky stars that he’s a friend o’ the family,” she smiled.

“How Lovisa?” Bifur asked, his head tilted. “Not seen few day.”

She cocked her brow. “She probably visited, but the two o’ you were too busy with toys,” she joked. “An’ the silly woman’s out huntin’ rabbits today.”

He nearly choked on his food. “Still hurt! Should rest!” he protested, eyes wide.

Reassuringly smiling at him, she took a bit of the bread as well. “Uncle Richard looked her injury over before he an’ Aunt Demelza left for Lake Town an’ he said that she’s pretty much healed up,” she explained. “So she’s takin’ full advantage o’ that today. Knowin’ her, she’ll come back with a bushel o’ rabbits, some fish, an’ a deer even…”

Bofur laughed. “After seein’ her hunt an’ track, I have no doubt that’s _exactly_ what she’ll bring home,” he grinned.

Suddenly, the three of them heard loud, hurried knocking coming from the back door.

“What the…? Who could that be?” Bofur murmured, getting up. Opening the door a crack, he could see the mess of blonde curls that was Wenna. “Wenna? What’re you doin’ here, lass?”

“Where’s Baylee?” she breathlessly asked; it was obvious she had ran there. As she leaned back, Baylee could see a worried look on her face.

“I’m right here, lass. What’s wrong?” Rising to her feet, Baylee also went to the door only to have Wenna grab her by the shoulders.

“Ya need t’ go t’ the castle _right now_! Somethin’s happened –there were soldiers! Loads o’ ‘em –they took ‘em without proper reasons-”

“Whoa, calm down Wenna!” she gently ordered. “Why do I have to go to the castle?”

Wenna swallowed hard. “I don’t know the whole story. I just know tha’ a bunch o’ soldiers came an’ took your da’ and brother. Bard sent me after ya; he wants you at the castle.” She let out a squeak as Baylee pushed her out of the way and bolted out of the door, not even bothering to grab her cloak.

By the time she reached the castle, her lungs burned, her legs ached, and her hip throbbed. All this she ignored as she shoved past the guards and hurried through to the courtyard. To her relief, Bard was pacing the stone pathway leading to the throne room; he glanced up as she approached before hurrying to her side.

“Wh-what’s going on?” she panted, having to lean on one of the wooden pillars for support. “W-Wenna s-said somethin’ ‘bout…’bout…”

“It’s nothing good,” Bard warned her. His face had lost all the humor he had earlier worn. “Mannus Stover had Warren and Will arrested.”

“On wha’ charges?” she cried. “They’ve done nothin’ wrong! They’ve _never_ done anythin’ wrong!” She started to walk, wincing with every few steps.

He shook his head. “He hasn’t said yet. He wanted you present before he declared the formal charges.” Rubbing his temple, he pushed open the door for her. “Adela’s here, too; Folki’s with Galiene.”

“He dragged her into this as well?”

“It has to do with her.”

Baylee cursed under her breath –though she quickly uttered a louder one as they came into the throne room. Not only were Mannus and Adela waiting for them, but Warren and Will were both in chains, two soldiers guarding each of them, and the entirety of the Elder Council was present. Mannus wore a cocky grin as he stood near the council, though it faded somewhat as Baylee and Bard entered.

“Alright, Mannus,” Bard spoke, moving to stand by his throne, “Baylee is here. Now tell us, why in Middle Earth have ya had Will and Warren arrested?” Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Baylee go to her brother and father.

Mannus took a small step forward, his hands behind his back. He was a man who tried to cling to what youthfulness he had left, but with thinning, red hair, a pot belly, and a greying beard, it was clear he was no longer the handsome lad he tried to be. “My Lord Bard,” he began, his eyes darting between the king, Baylee, and Will, “I’ve had Warren and William arrested on charges o’ theft an’ dishonor. Specifically, the theft o’ my daughter, Adela, an’ the dishonor o’ soiling her purity before marriage.”

“Oh, that’s a load of bollocks!” Warren snapped. “ _You_ all but disowned her!”

“You screamed at me in front o’ the patrons at the inn!” Adela added. “You _humiliated_ me in front o’ them!”

Glaring at them, Mannus cleared his throat. “But I never disowned you,” he replied, his voice even. “I may have expressed my… _disagreement_ with your choice o’ lover, but never disowned you.” He turned towards Bard once more. “My Lord, young William never paid the bride-price before marryin’ my daughter. As such, he has stolen her from me an’ brought dishonor on my family by havin’ an out o’ wedlock child with her.”

“Oh, dishonor on your cow!” Baylee growled. Glancing at her brother, she could see that he was too angry to say anything and that his fists were balled tight enough for his nails to draw blood from his palms.

Bard did not seem convinced, either. “There haven’t been any marriages with a bride-price payment in nearly half a century, Mannus,” he replied. “At least amongst the common folk. Which _you_ are.”

He wiggled his finger almost scolding at the king. “Ah, but it _is_ the law, my lord.” He glanced at the council behind him. “Isn’t that right, gentlemen? Not only that, but as Warren and I are both owners o’ inns an’ make a fair amount o’ gold, wouldn’t you say tha’ we’re o’ the higher class?”

One of the older council members stepped forward, having to lean on a cane for support. “It is the law, Lord Bard,” he rasped, “we have checked. Elder Thomas has the Book of Laws.” He motioned behind him, beckoning another council member forward. “As much as it pains us to do such, the council agrees that Mannus is in the right to his claim of theft.”

Elder Thomas–a slightly younger man- stepped forward and opened an ancient-looking tome. He showed Bard the passage that the first elder referenced, his shriveled finger tracing the elegant script.

“ _The bride-price must be paid to the wife-to-be’s family before the marriage can take place,_ ” Bard read aloud. _“If a marriage between a couple is performed and no bride-price has been paid, the offending husband and father of the husband shall be arrested and jailed until either the bride-price has been paid_ in full _, an annulment is performed, or death claims them._ ” He glanced up, swallowing his horror before reading the last few lines. “ _If the bride-price cannot be paid and an annulment refused, the wife’s father or eldest male relative may claim any amount of lands, wealth, or businesses the husband may own instead of the requested bride-price._ ”

“What’s your price for Adela, then?” Warren snapped. “I’ll pay anythin’!”

Lightly shrugging, Mannus looked away. “I want two things, really…but since I have mercy, I’ll ask for only one,” he replied coolly.

Bard narrowed his eyes. “Well then? Out with it.”

“I want Baylee for my wife.”

Baylee almost retched in shock and disgust;  just in case, she clamped her hand over her mouth. Warren tried to lunge forward, but the guards managed to restrain him. There was a thud from Will’s guards as they were forced to shove him against the wall to keep him at bay.

“You leave Baylee out o’ this!” he shouted. “Leave my sister _alone_ or else-” He suddenly fell silent as Bard held up his hand and gave him a stern, but understanding, look.

“You said there was a second price that could be paid,” Bard spoke, doing his best to retain his anger. “What was it?”

“Oh, it’s quite unattainable, my lord, that’s why I didn’t ask for it,” Mannus replied with another small shrug.

Bard went over to Mannus until there was barely a foot of space between them. “You are trying my patience, Mannus Stover,” he hissed, “with this ridiculous drivel of yours. Now, as your _king_ , I order you t’ tell me: _What is the second price_?”

Mannus seemed to balk under the intense gaze of the king and he swallowed hard. “Th-the Horn of Thúnor, milord,” he replied, his cheeks turning bright red. Finding his courage again, he stood straighter. “My daughter is a priceless treasure t’ me, just like the Horn o’ Thúnor was t’ his people. I’ll accept nothin’ less than that or Baylee’s hand. A fair trade, don’t you think?”

Shouts broke out from both the accused and Adela. Warren was arguing about how the horn didn’t exist. Will was threatening to cut out Mannus’ tongue for such wickedness. Adela was insulting her father’s sanity, claiming it had disappeared when her mother had left him. It took all of the soldiers’ strength to restrain Will and Warren –both of whom stood a head taller than the four men- without bringing injury to either themselves or to the other two men.

“ _BE QUIET!”_

The silence that followed was a stunned one, for it hadn’t been any man who had shouted, but Baylee. Turning, Bard quickly stepped to the side as he saw the small woman storming up to Mannus –and with good reason. Such was the intensity of the hatred and anger written on her face, for the first time in her life, Baylee looked _terrifying_. What she had felt when she found Damayanti trying to assault Ori was nothing compared to what she felt towards Mannus Stover.

“Ya claim that it was Will who sullied your family’s honor,” she told Mannus, her voice dangerously quiet, “an’ yet, here you stand, bringin’ shame an’ dishonor upon _my_ family an’ _my_ sister-in-law by bringing up ancient, obsolete laws tha’ no longer have a place in our city. But you will have your nâstagûl bride-price an’ it’s certainly _not_ goin’ to be my hand in marriage.”

Mannus glared down at her, wearing a mischievous grin. Regardless of his façade, Baylee could see the fear in his eyes as he refused to meet her gaze. “Is that so?” he mused.

“Baylee-” Warren began, but he was cut off.

“By Mahal’s sacred anvil, I swear that I’ll deliver Thúnor’s Horn to you –that is, _if_ it exists.”

He smirked, showing yellowed teeth. “Then so be it.” He looked to Bard and the council. “Ya heard her –she swore t’ the Valar that she’ll give me Thúnor’s Horn!” he declared, throwing out his arms and looking at the people around him. “And, until I get my payment, William and Warren Braddock are to be kept in jail!”

Bard stared at him for a long, silent minute, debating whether he should stab the man and free Baylee of her obligation or send his lifelong friends who had shown him so much kindness through the years to jail. His duty as king, however, dictated that he must do the latter.

“Take them to the cells,” he quietly ordered, sitting down in his throne. Slouching forward in defeat, he rested his arms on his legs. “Mannus, council –leave my sight.”

Adela huddled beside Baylee as the soldiers took Will and Warren, both of whom had given up their struggles, from the room. The Elder Council followed them, but Mannus lingered. He held his hand out to his daughter, wearing a sickly sweet smile.

“Come along, Adela,” he told her. “Let’s go home.”

“I’m not goin’ anywhere with you!” she snapped, partially hiding herself behind Baylee.

Mannus frowned and started towards her. “Adela, don’t be silly. You’re coming home until this little-” He stopped short, feeling cool metal pressed against his throat.

Baylee stared up at him, her face void of any emotion, save the hate in her eyes. “She stays at the Tankard,” she told him, knuckles white as she gripped the blade.

“She’s _my_ daughter-”

“Nowhere in that law did it state that she has t’ go back an’ live with you. _She stays at the Tankard_.”

Bard looked up. “She’s right, Mannus. Now leave before I have _you_ arrested for trespassing.”

As Mannus hurried out of the hall, Baylee tucked the dagger back into its sheath, which was hidden in the front of her dress. Setting her hand on Adela’s arm, she glanced at Bard, who had his face buried in his hands. A quiet sigh left her mouth and she forced herself to look away.

“I’m sorry,” he told the two of them, his voice muffled by his hands. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t want to send them to jail, but…”

“Ya didn’t have a choice,” Adela murmured, her voice shaking. She closed her eyes and bit her lower lip, trying to keep herself composed. “You did all that ya could. We couldn’t have asked for more from you.” She managed to give the king a quaking smile, but he did not look at them.

“You should get back to the inn,” he quietly spoke. “Return to your son and your friends…Do ya want a soldier to go with you? In case he tries anything again?”

Adela looked down at Baylee, who hadn’t spoken since her threat to Mannus. “No. I think we’ll be fine. Thank-you, though.”

Baylee wordlessly wrapped her arm around Adela and led her out of the castle. Neither one cared about the stares given to them by curious onlookers.

 

An hour later found the Full Tankard temporarily closed for the first time since it opened. Inside, its staff was gathered in the kitchen with Baylee sitting in the chair that was normally occupied by Warren. She looked smaller than normal as she sat in the oversized seat, but everyone was silent as they listened to her, showing her the same respect they would have shown her father.

“…Business won’t be good for the next few days –maybe even the next few weeks. I don’t doubt tha’ there are already nasty rumors bein’ spread, an’ we know how fast gossip travels.” With a heavy sigh, she tiredly rubbed her face before looking at the people around her. “Valar only know what’s bein’ said about Will an’ papa right now, but whatever’s goin’ around _isn’t_ true. Adela an’ I told ya the true story. Remember that.”

Wenna, out of everyone, looked the most worried while Galiene, who sat beside her, lightly squeezed her hand, letting her know everything would be alright. Gawen was polishing the silverware, though his hands shook and he dropped a spoon more than once. Adela was cradling Folki as she sat in Baylee’s normal spot, quietly cooing to the infant as tears silently trailed down her cheeks. Peter was the only one not sitting –he was leaning against the wall, his arms crossed as he slowly chewed on the end of an unlit pipe.

“We have loyal patrons though,” she finally continued. “An’ just because Will an’ papa are…gone for a while, doesn’t mean we’re goin’ t’ slack off in our jobs, alright? Aye, things are hard an’ will be hard for some time, but we owe it t’ whoever comes through that door an’ orders a meal or room t’ give ‘em our best –nothin’ less.”

Everyone nodded in agreement. Galiene stood up, moving to check on the various meats she had started roasting before Baylee returned with the news while Wenna went to check on some rising bread dough. Peter, however, moved to the hearth. These things they did in almost total silence, knowing that Baylee wasn’t quite done yet.

“I’ll…probably have t’ hire on some temporary help,” she continued, also rising to her feet. She limped over to Wenna, taking one of the bowls of dough and moving back to the table. “With my aunt an’ uncle bein’ gone an’ me leavin’ soon, you lot will be shorthanded.” As she spoke, she kneaded the dough, add dried fruit and nuts to it every couple of turns. “Luckily, I’ve already got some people in mind…Wenna, Peter: It’ll be up t’ the two o’ ya t’ train them an’ get them up t’ speed on how things run around here, alright?”

“Aye,” the two of them chorused.

“Who’re you going t’ leave in charge while you’re gone?” Gawen asked, putting the last knife in its place in the box. Standing up, he carried the box of utensils back to its proper place on the counter.

“Er…” She went silent for a moment. Her mind had been racing a hundred leagues a minute ever since the confrontation and she had come up with so many plans already, but she honestly hadn’t thought over who would be in charge. “I still need t’ think on that one,” she admitted. She looked up as a cup of tea appeared in front of her and a large hand cupped her shoulder.

“Take your time, girlie,” Peter gently told her. “You’ve already done quite a bit o’ thinkin’ today. You need t’ rest. We can handle things for the time bein’; why don’t you go lie down for a while?” He plucked up the board that she had unconsciously filled with small loaves of bread, moving to put it in the proofing box.

Slowly nodding, she wiped her hands on her dress, not caring that she just covered the rich, indigo fabric with messy, white flour prints. “Thank-you,” she quietly told him.

His reply was a simple pat on the back.

She got to her feet and, taking the tea with her, headed towards her quarters. The common room had a few people gathered around the hearth, but they paid her no mind as they talked amongst themselves and drank warm, mulled wine or hot cider. As she came nearer to her room, she didn’t notice that she had begun to shake, though she found herself swallowing hard over and over again.

Entering her room, she closed the door before leaning against the wall. Tightly hugging herself, she finally allowed the mental dam to break and she slid to the ground, crying. She tried to be quiet, in case Adela came down the hall, but it was a useless effort. Looking helplessly into the night, she started to lightly rock herself, tears pouring from her eyes.

“Valar, give us strength,” she sobbed into the darkness. “Please give us strength.”


	34. 34

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this chapter took so long to get out. I had 90% of it done the week before last, but....then stuff came up. Some good, but most of it left me feeling less than inspired....So. Yeah.

Chapter Thirty-Four

 

When Baylee awoke, she found that someone had moved her to her bed. Looking out her window, she judged it to early morning; the sun was just barely in the sky. For a moment, she thought that it had all been a bad dream, but as she looked around her room and found her tea still sitting on the floor by her door, she bit her tongue; it had all been real. She slid out of bed, finding herself still in yesterday’s clothes, and shivered as the cool air met her warm skin.

‘This is all just a mess,’ she thought, going to her washbasin. ‘I can’t believe Mannus wanted my hand or Thúnor’s horn!’ Splashing cold water onto her face, she shivered again and cursed quietly under her breath. ‘Where in Middle Earth am I even going to start?! I haven’t the slightest idea about where Thúnor lived, let alone how to go about getting that horn of his…’

Giving her face a second splash, she turned away from the basin and began changing her clothes. ‘I know he lived west of the Misty Mountains; the tale said he lived near a forest and the only forests this side of the mountains are dangerous to everyone but elves. Maybe he lived near the Shire?’

She left her room, finger-combing her hair as she walked. As she got nearer to the door, her brow rose; there was quite a bit of noise coming from the common room. Wondering if a fight had broken out, she quickened her pace and hurried down the hall only to receive a pleasant surprise.

The common room was packed.

Every table was full and the benches near the door had to be brought to the bar so that people could eat there. Wenna, Lovisa, and Peter were hurrying about, their arms filled by trays laden with food. Even more to Baylee’s surprise was the sight of Bard, Dori, and Ori also running around with trays of food. In all the hustle and bustle, she went unnoticed by most, though Dori happened to pass by and, spotting her, gave her a sympathetic smile.

“Good morning, Miss Baylee!” he chirped.

“D-Dori, what’s going on?” she asked, her eyes wide as she looked around. From what she could see, even the two private dining rooms had been filled with patrons.

He chuckled, putting his hands on his hips. “It seems half of Dale heard about your family’s predicament and they came to show their support,” he explained.

“But…we didn’t…No one said…” She swallowed hard, unsure whether she should laugh or cry.

A small twinkle came to his eye as he glanced across the room at Bard, who was trying to pair up plates of food to those who had ordered them. “Well, let’s just say your family’s got friends in high places. Now, you should go and get yourself some breakfast –though I warn you! The kitchen’s a bit…crowded.” Patting her shoulder, he went off to go see how the folk in the private dining rooms were faring.

Rubbing the back of her neck, Baylee headed towards the kitchen. Poking her head in, she quickly pulled it back out and leaned against the wall, her hand covering her mouth. After taking a moment to regain her composure, she took a deep breath and stepped into the kitchen. Galiene was manning the stove while Adela was pulling loaf after loaf of bread from the oven. Gawen was butchering cuts of meat to be used during lunch and dinner while, standing on stools across the kitchen, Berez and Bombur (of all people!) were whisking away at various mystery dishes. Baraz and Biriz were there, too, making quick work of washing a stack of dishes.

Baylee didn’t notice the tears beginning to stream down her cheeks, nor did she care much when Wenna and Bard came bursting into the kitchen, each toting a tray absolutely filled with dirtied dishes, and knocked into her. Wenna didn’t seem to notice her as she hurried to the sink, but Bard reached out and grabbed her before she could fall.

“How are you doing?” he asked, giving her a look that was a mix of concern and joy.

“…Half o’ Dale’s crammed into our inn,” she spluttered. “Why is half o’ Dale crammed into our inn?”

He gave her an amused smile. “The Full Tankard has many fans; they’re here t’ show support for your family. After all, word does spread rather quickly…”

She motioned to Bombur, Baraz, Berez, and Biriz. “ _How_ did they hear!? They were in Erebor! News doesn’t travel that fast unless someone sent a rider, shoutin’ through the streets!” She heard one of them –probably Baraz- laugh at her statement.

Bard set his hand on her shoulder. “You have more important things to think about,” he told her, his tone both kind and serious. “Things that _aren’t_ why you suddenly have an increase o’ help. After ya eat breakfast, you need t’ visit the archives and find out any information you can about Thúnor from them.”

At that Baylee, balked. “Th-the archives?” she repeated.

He nodded. “There are still plenty of old texts left from when Dale was first built,” he explained. “You may find _something_ there, even if it’s just a small clue.”

She nervously bit her tongue and nodded. “Alright,” she murmured. She knew well enough the archives were one of the few buildings that hadn’t been destroyed by Smaug when he ravaged Dale and Erebor –but only because it was located underground, beneath Bard’s palace.

Before she knew it, she was tucked away a corner of the kitchen –there wasn’t the slightest bit of room left for her in the common room- with a bowl of porridge and some biscuits. It was hard for her to eat it all, since she didn’t have much of an appetite, but with Galiene and Bombur constantly telling her to eat up, she managed to finish every last crumb. When she was done, she tossed her dishes over to Biriz, who narrowly avoided getting a face full of soap suds as Baraz dunked a rather large pot.

It was as she was walking to the palace, bundled up in a heavy cloak with the hood drawn up for some privacy, that the shock of that morning finally started to wear off. A heavy sigh left her mouth and she pulled the cloak closer around her small frame, her gaze drifting down to the ground.

‘I hope there’s something about Thúnor in the archives,’ she thought, biting her tongue. ‘I know he was a real person and all, but…who’s to say that the story of his drinking horn is true?’

She suddenly yelped as someone grabbed her arm and, spinning around, she reached for her dagger. It remained sheathed, however, when she found Bofur standing behind her, looking all too concerned. He was wrapped up in his heavy brown coat and the flaps of his hat were, for once, drawn down around his ears and cheeks.

“I’m sorry for scarin’ you, love,” he told her, his tone apologetic, “I thought ya heard me, though; I called out for you three times.” He lightly set his hand on her arm a second time and gave it a small squeeze.

Baylee rubbed the back of her neck and wearily smiled at him. “I’m sorry. I was lost in my thoughts.” Leaning over, she kissed the tip of his nose. “What’re ya doin’ out on a cold day like today?”

“I was goin’ to go t’ the Tankard t’ check on you,” he admitted. “I went there last night t’ see how you were doin’ but I found ya asleep by your door.”

Her cheeks turned red. “Ah, so you were the one who put me t’ bed.” He nodded. “Thank you. I don’t suppose sleepin’ on the floor would have been very warm or comfortable.”

Reaching under her cloak, Bofur found her hand and lightly held it. “How’re you doing?” he quietly asked as they started to walk. “Are ya alright?”

Another sigh left her mouth. “No, I’m not,” she softly admitted, “an’ I don’t think I will be. Not until Papa an’ Will are out o’ jail.”

Bofur nodded in understanding. “When Bard told me the news, I wanted t’ go out an’ punch the son o’ a wench myself,” he told her. “Almost did, too, but then I started thinkin’ about how the inn would be doin’ an’ how shorthanded things would be there for a while. Ended up goin’ an’ getting’ Bombur an’ some o’ my nephews instead –though, I think you may have already noticed that.” He smiled tiredly as she kissed his cheek.

“Half o’ Dale is at the inn right now, so their help was most definitely needed.”

His eyes lit up. “What? What d’ya mean, half o’ Dale’s at the inn?”

“It’s beyond capacity right now,” she chuckled. “Apparently, there’s a lot o’ folk wanting to show us their support. It’s a nice slap in the face t’ Mannus, too. I bet he thought this would ruin us…”

A sigh of relief left his mouth. “Good! I thought ya had meant they were angry at you or somethin’. I’m glad that’s not the case.” As they rounded a corner, he looked up at the palace at the top of the hill. “Aye! Your inn should always be packed. Good food, good drink…what’s not t’ like? I mean, I even hear the owner’s daughter is quite the beauty.” He gave her a playful wink, more than a little happy to hear her laugh.

Kissing his cheek again, she also lightly nuzzled him. “Strange, because I hear she’s a wreck right now,” she chuckled.

“Wreck or not, I’m here for her.” Pulling her close, he wrapped his arm around her waist. “So why’re you goin’ to the palace?”

“I need t’ dig through the archives,” she sighed. “See if I can find anything on Thúnor.”

His brow rose. “Thúnor? Who’s he?”

“He’s a king from the ancient days,” she replied. “That’s ‘bout all I know ‘bout him, save for the story o’ him an’ a troll.”

“Oh? He get eaten?”

She shook her head. “No. He ended up defeatin’ the troll thanks t’ a magical drinkin’ horn.”

“Huh. Sounds interestin’. So, why do ya need to look him up if ya already know that much about him?”

As they approached the palace guards, Baylee was more than a little surprised when they ushered the two of them through without hesitation. Figuring that Bard had warned them of her coming, she lowered the hood of her cloak. “Because I need t’ find his drinkin’ horn t’ get papa an’ Will out o’ prison.”

Bofur gave her a confused look. “Wait, what? You said that it was a story, though.”

“It’s…it’s a bit hard t’ explain,” she murmured. “Did Bard tell ya about what happened?”

“Aside from Mannus havin’ your brother an’ father arrested, no.”

As they walked down at a hall, Baylee stopped a servant and asked how to get down to the archives. Knowing it was a confusing path, he started to lead them down the hall.

“Mannus had them arrested for theft,” she quietly explained. “He claimed tha’ Will stole his property –Adela- since he didn’t ask for her hand in marriage or pay the bride price. He said he’d let ‘em stay married if one o’ two things happened: Either he gets Thúnor’s horn or…or I marry him.”

“He isn’t getting’ anywhere near you!” Bofur cried, startling both Baylee and the butler. “Sorry,” he grumbled, “but it’s true. That rat shouldn’t even be _thinkin’_ ‘bout marrying you! The only one who’s allowed t’ think about marryin’ you is me –not some…some…beardless, greed-filled, dirt bag!”

If she hadn’t been so stressed, Baylee would have better noticed Bofur’s words about marriage. As it was, however, she was thinking more about Mannus and his demands. “Which is why I need t’ see if the story ‘bout him an’ his horn is real or just a story,” she gently soothed him. “I wouldn’t ever marry him –not even if it meant gettin’ Papa an’ Will out o’ jail.”

Despite her words, Bofur had the feeling that, if worse came to worst, she _would_ go to such lengths to free her father and brother. He didn’t voice this concern, though, and instead followed her and the butler down a flight of spiraling stairs. “So…what happens if it is just a story?” he asked.

She glanced at him from over her shoulder. “Then it’s within Mannus’ right t’ take the Tankard from us.”

 

~*~*~*~

 

Bard let out a weary sigh as he sat down. He, along with the others, had been busting their hindquarters making sure everyone who came in got plenty to eat and drink. Thankfully, after lunch had passed, things began to slow down due to people needing to do chores and tend to their families. Many, though, promised to come again at dinner. Regardless, he was thankful for the small respite.

Rubbing his face, he rested his chin in his hand and stirred his chicken stew slowly, watching as wisps of steam rose into the air. Across from him, Wenna was almost falling asleep in her food; it took Galiene lightly nudging her in the ribs to keep her awake. Peter and Gawen also sat at their table, though they seemed to have more energy than Wenna and Bard –and twice the appetites. They had already eaten two bowls of stew.

“So how bad do you think it’ll be at dinner?” he asked, trying to strike up conversation. “The same amount of people or even more?”

“Oh, I’m hopin’ less,” Galiene sighed. “As much as I appreciate everyone’s support, it was just…too much. I’m glad we had help, though.” She smiled and glanced over at the table of dwarves, who seemed to still have excess amounts of energy. “Who knew that Baylee’s friendship with ‘em would turn out t’ be a bigger blessin’ than we thought?”

Peter nodded in agreement. “They’re quick learners, that’s for sure,” he concurred. “And they’re quick cooks.”

“Ya should have seen how fast Bombur an’ -Berez? I think it was Berez- butchered a whole pig!” Gawen chimed in. “An’ it wasn’t a small yearling, either –it was huge! An’ they had it done in about ten minutes’ time.”

Bard smiled. “I’m glad t’ hear that the help’s been welcomed,” he spoke. “I’ll have to thank Bofur again for convincing them to come here.”

“From the sounds o’ it, it didn’t take much convincin’,” Galiene chuckled, stirring some pepper into her stew. “Bombur and his lads were apparently more than willing to help. Methinks the lads just wanted to get out of Erebor, though.” Taking a bite of her stew, she let out a sigh of content and leaned back in her chair, slouching slightly. “This is some mighty tasty stew I make,” she grinned.

“That it is,” Bard laughed. “I’m glad you shared the recipe with your cousin; my girls love it when she makes the chicken stew.” He, too, ate a bite of his stew before dipping a biscuit into the thick liquid. “Now if only they’d eat their vegetables when there’s no stew around…”

Peter and Gawen snickered at the comment, but Wenna perked slightly. “That’s when ya make a vegetable pie or sneak ‘em into desserts,” she told him, taking everyone by surprise.

Galiene cocked her brow and gave her an odd look. “What?”

Wenna nodded heartily. “Aye! It’s what me mam does for my brothers. They refuse t’ eat their vegetables, so she cuts them up real small and throws them into cakes or just makes a vegetable pot pie. Sometimes, she’ll even sneak them into their breakfasts by throwin’ them in with the potatoes or eggs. They don’t even know they’re eating vegetables!” She lightly shrugged and fished a bit of stew-soaked biscuit out of her bowl. “It worked for me, too, when I was little. I guess my family just doesn’t like their veggies.”

“I’ll discuss it with Mallory then,” Bard smiled. “I’m sure she wouldn’t mind; thank-you for the suggestions, Wenna.” He glanced over at the dwarf-filled table as they burst out in a round of laughter. “I wish I could have as much energy as they do right now.”

“It certainly would be nice,” Galiene smiled. She looked over at Gawen and Peter; Gawen was scraping the last bits of stew from his bowl with his finger while Peter was drinking the rest of his straight from the bowl. Her brow rose as she watched them. “Are the two o’ you finally done eatin’, or are you gettin’ another batch?”

Gawen smiled cheekily. “I’m done,” he told his aunt. “I was just going t’ go take this to the washbasin.” He blinked as Peter stood up, taking his bowl from him.

“I’ll do it,” he told him. “Does anyone need anythin’ while I’m in there?”

Bard glanced up. “Are there any pies?” he asked. “Or cakes or anything sweet, really?”

“I think there’s an apple pie,” Galiene answered, scratching her nose. “We don’t have much in the way o’ desserts right now; Baylee an’ Adela are normally in charge o’ those. An’ with Baylee off at the archives an’ Adela visitin’ Warren an’ William…” She let out a heavy sigh as Peter walked off.

Wenna slouched back in her chair, staring at her soup. The small perk of enthusiasm she boasted just minutes ago had faded. “Bard…?”

“Hm?”

“D’ya think Baylee has a chance o’ findin’ the horn?” she asked, her voice quiet and unsure.

He was silent for a long moment, pondering over his answer as he stirred his stew. “I don’t know, Wenna,” he admitted. “I always thought Thúnor and his horn was just a story, but most stories come from some shred of truth.”

“What happens if it doesn’t exist? Mannus wanted either the horn or Baylee’s hand…” Her frown grew. “An’ if he doesn’t get either o’ those…he gets the inn, leavin’ us jobless an’ the Braddocks homeless. How can tha’ be fair?”

He ran a hand through his hair, pushing aside any stray strands or locks. “I’m going to hold a council meeting in a few days to discuss this very subject,” he told her. “This is probably the only time I’ll wish that I had more power like the king of Rohan or the ancient kings of Gondor. As it is, I’m more like a governor who has to listen to the council for most things…”

Galiene nodded slowly. “I don’t have a single doubt that Mannus bribed ‘em,” she declared. “There’s no way all ten o’ the council members would have agreed t’ do this otherwise. I know well enough that none o’ them had t’ pay a bride price when they married their wives!”

Gawen scrunched his nose up. “Why should ya have t’ pay for a bride in the first place? It doesn’t make sense.”

“In the old days,” Bard sighed, “women were thought of as property –not living, breathing creatures. It was ingrained into a lot o’ people’s minds that men owned women an’ that women were weak. Many people still think that, unfortunately, but times are changin’. No one’s had to pay a bride price in at least a hundred years, save for those who are both wealthy an’ greedy.”

Shaking his head, the lad leaned back in his chair. “People in the old days were strange. O’ course women are strong! They give birth, they haul around heavy baskets from the market, an’ they have t’ deal with all the whinin’ we men do when we’re sick!”

Galiene and Wenna both laughed. “Finally! A male admits that they’re a total baby when sick!” Wenna cackled.

“Never thought I’d live t’ see _that_ happen,” Galiene chuckled.

 

~*~*~*~

 

Bofur let out a quiet sigh as he flipped through the pages of an ancient book, his eyes scanning each page for any mentions of someone named Thúnor, a drinking horn, or a conflict with a troll. It had been at least four hours since they began their search, stopping only for a quick lunch or to use the privy. Out of the piles of books and scrolls around them, both he and Baylee had managed to find a total of three paragraphs about the ancient king.

He hated to admit it, but he felt like he was doing most of the searching. In the time it took him to finish skimming one book, Baylee had only managed to look through a quarter of a different tome. He scolded himself when he started to resent her slowness, having to tell himself that she was more than likely still exhausted from the previous day –on top of having an immense weight on her shoulders.

Letting out a sigh, he rubbed his face and closed his eyes for a moment, giving them a small rest. Staring at page after page of small, fine script for hours on end was beginning to give him a headache; the dusty air of the archives did little to relieve the growing pain. He heard some papers shuffling around and, opening one eye, watched as Baylee unfurled a scroll and started to read it.

Closing his eye again, he covered his mouth as he yawned. He was in the middle of stretching his arms and back when Baylee took him by surprise by throwing the scroll across the room, cursing at it before getting up and storming up the stairs. His jaw hanging slack, he stared at her retreating back in total surprise. Never before had he witnessed Baylee having such a reaction to something.

Bofur cautiously got to his feet and followed after her. When he caught up to her, he found her pacing on a balcony and cursing to herself under her breath. He noticed that she was also chewing on a bit of one of her braids. Standing in the doorway, Bofur wasn’t entirely sure about what to do.

“Âzying?” he quietly asked after some minutes had passed. “Are…are ya alright, love? Ya gave me a bit o’ a fright down there.”

The braid fell from her mouth, though she didn’t look up at him. “I can’t do it anymore,” she told him. “I can’t keep pourin’ through those scrolls an’ books.”

“Is it givin’ ya a headache? I know I’m gettin’ one. Maybe we should take a break for-”

“It’s not a headache. It’s…it’s the damned words!”

His brow rose and he looked at her with confusion written all over his features. “The…words?”

“Aye, the words,” she groaned. Finally standing still, she gave him a hopeless look. “They’re too big! I don’t know how the letters work together; I can figure it out for smaller words, but not the big, stupid ones. What in Manwë’s name is a mage-is-tray-tea? Or what’s a guh-way-th-low? I don’t bloody well know!” Grabbing the braid again, she once more started to gnaw on the strands.

Suddenly, Bofur understood why she had taken so long to get through a scroll or book. He watched as she started to pace again and his confusion turned to gentle understanding. Going over to her, he stopped her and lightly clasped her shoulders.

“Ya didn’t tell me you couldn’t read, love,” he softly told her.

Still, she did not look at him. “I _can_ read…but only the small words. Once they start gettin’ longer than ten letters, though, I get confused. I know my letters well enough, but…some o’ those fancy words”

He gave her a reassuring smile. “There are plenty o’ people in Middle Earth who can’t read,” he told her, “so you knowin’ even that much is an accomplishment.”

“But everyone else at the inn can read perfectly,” she muttered. “Will has a lot o’ books an’ Galiene’s constantly writin’ down her recipes so Gawen can read ‘em and learn ‘em. Then there’s me; everyone knows when I had t’ write someone’s name down in the ledger because I misspell people’s names or whenever someone sends me a letter, I have t’ have Papa or Will read it t’ me…” A heavy sigh left her mouth and she hung her head in shame. “I’m an idiot when it comes t’ readin’.”

Bofur frowned, lifting her chin. “Now that’s no way t’ talk ‘bout yourself, âzying,” he lightly scolded. “You’re a smart lass about plenty o’ things in the world. Just because you’re not good at readin’ doesn’t make you an idiot at it. Reading’s a hard thing t’ learn for anyone, so no one’s goin’ t’ blame you for not recognizin’ a few hard words.” He lightly rubbed the tip of his nose against the tip of her nose, earning a small smile from the human.

“How do ya do that?” she asked, brushing her fingertips against his cheek.

He cocked his head. “Do what?”

“Always know just what t’ say.” She gave him a lingering kiss. “I was ready t’ burn down that whole archive out o’ frustration and there ya go, sayin’ stuff that manages t’ cheer me up.”

A cheeky grin came to his features. “Don’t know how I do it, but at least I didn’t end up ramblin’ on an’ on about how amazin’ a person you are. Though, if ya want me t’ do that, I can. I can probably spend all day talkin’ about ya, t’ be honest. Not sure you’d appreciate hearin’ my voice for that long, though –not many can. I don’t blame ‘em, though, I mean, I really need t’ learn t’ sh--” He was abruptly silenced as she kissed him.

“I have heard ya ramble on before,” she chuckled when they parted. “An’ right now happens to be one of those times.”

An apologetic smile came to his lips. “Sorry, âzying.”

She kissed the tip of his nose. “Don’t be. It’s cute –most o’ the time. But, right now, we can’t have ya rambling. Not unless it’s about Thúnor. Did ya manage t’ find anything else about him?”

He shook his head. “Not yet.”

She sighed. “So, so far we only know that he was a real bloke an’ that he lived somewhere in a place called Ee-need-wa-ith.”

“Enedwaith,” he gently corrected. “Ya were close, though.”

Her cheeks turned pink. “Aye…in that place.”

Bofur lightly rubbed her arms. “C’mon, let’s go back down there an’ see if we can find some sort o’ map. We can narrow down the cities from there, eh? Since we know he lived near a forest.”

“Good idea,” Baylee sighed. “We’ll worry ‘bout the horn in a little while. After all, if we can’t find anythin’ on it, I’ll have t’ actually go to the place where he lived…”

Frowning, Bofur looked up at her. “What? Ya didn’t say anythin’ ‘bout havin’ t’ travel!”

She sighed. “I swore t’ Mahal that, if the horn exists, I’d give it t’ Mannus. So if we find nothin’ here, I have no choice but t’ go t’ wherever it is that he lived.”

He nodded slowly before rubbing his beard. “Well, then, I’ll just have t’ come with you. Someone’s get t’ keep ya safe, after all.”

“We’ll see,” she replied, bringing a look of concern to his features. “Let’s just worry ‘bout finding this Enedwaith place, aye?” Kissing his forehead, she wrapped her arm around his shoulders and guided him back into the palace. “Were there any turnovers leftover from lunch?”

“There’re three, I think,” he answered, his arm sliding around her waist.

“Good…I’m starvin’.”

“Well, ya didn’t each much o’ your stew before givin’ the rest to me.”

“I wanted t’ get back t’ readin’. Or, at least, tryin’ t’ read.” Tucking the spit-dampened braid over her shoulder, she let out a quiet sigh. “At least I’m good with the pictures –when there are pictures, that is.”

He chuckled. “Aye, you’re good at tellin’ what those are. I would have never guessed that that dragon was a dragon an’ not some deformed dog. It certainly looked like a dog.”

“Well, it was near a pile o’ gold. That, an’ its wings were those green curls. Why they made a yellow dragon have green wings, I’ll never know…”

As they descended the spiraling staircase into the archives once more, Bofur rested his head against Baylee’s shoulder. After spending most of the night gathering parts of his family to come help out at the inn and then rushing back to Dale so that they would be there in time for the dinner rush, he had been left rather exhausted. It didn’t help that he hadn’t slept well, knowing that his lover and her family were going through such a crisis. As per usual, he was doing his best to liven everyone’s moods –he had even brought over some toys for Folki that would help him better discover the many uses hands and feet could provide- but his jokes and songs had only helped so much.

Rubbing the back of his neck, he glanced at Baylee, able to see the dark circles under her eyes; she hadn’t slept well, either, and probably wouldn’t for some days to come. Her face revealed little else, but he knew, past her calm exterior, she had to be a raging storm of anger, sorrow, and confusion. Pulling her closer to him, he kissed her shoulder and lightly stroked her waist. He wished he could do more to help her, but that would involve either magically producing Thúnor’s horn or…

‘No,’ he thought. ‘As much as I hate Mannus, I can’t kill him –not over this. Now, if he tried to actually hurt Baylee, Will, or Warren, I’d have an excuse but…killing him outright would just get me thrown in jail. That’s not what anyone needs right now.’ Rubbing the back of his neck, he started to shuffle through some of the scrolls they had set aside, knowing he had seen a map furled up in one of them. ‘But if I can help by keeping her safe on this search for this damned horn, then that should be good enough, right? Maybe that’ll help stop me from worrying too much…But what if the horn doesn’t end up being real? Then we have to worry about Mannus taking the Tankard! That’s a whole new set of problems right there.’

“Bofur?”

“Hm?” He looked up at Baylee as he was pulled from his thoughts. Her brow was raised as she stared at him.

“Are ya alright? I’ve been offerin’ ya a bite o’ this turnover for five minutes an’ you’ve been ignorin’ me.”

“Sorry, love. I was thinkin’.” He gave her a reassuring smile before leaning over and taking the offered bite.

“Thinking about what?” She watched as he grabbed a scroll and started to unfurl it. When it wasn’t the scroll he wanted, he let it snap back into a cylinder before grabbing another one.

Unrolling this second one, he grinned slightly –it was the map he was looking for. “Thinking about how I’m goin’ t’ do my best t’ help you an’ your family out an’ how I’m goin’ t’ protect ya from Mannus if he tries anythin’ else.” He knew the map had to be old: Forests covered parts of the world where he knew they no longer existed; the Shire was nowhere to be found; and Iron Hills were nameless, as they remained until the refugees from Smaug’s initial attack came to them.

A warm smile came to her lips. “You sap.” Leaning over, she kissed his cheek before helping him hold down the map’s corners with some heavy books.

“Ah, but I’m _your_ sap,” he chuckled. “Now. Enedwaith…that’s somewhere west o’ the mountains…” He started to scour the map with his eyes, looking all over the western regions of Middle Earth.

“Here!” Baylee pointed to a section of the southwest where it was heavily forested. “Enedwaith. It’s a small realm…”

“On paper, at least.” He went and fetched one of the lanterns, bringing it over so they could better see the fine script labeling the cities and towns. “Well, there are a lot of cities an’ towns,” he frowned, “but the capital o’ the area seems t’ be Lond Daer.”

Baylee leaned over, looking at the area he was pointing to. “That’s really close to the sea,” she murmured.

“My guess is that it’s a harbor o’ some sort. Probably pretty important, too. See this river? The Gwathló? It goes all the way up t’ Rivendell!”

“Look here.” She pointed at a fork in the river. “This part –the Gla…Glan…Glanduin?” Bofur nodded in approval, “the Glanduin goes up t’ Moria. So, aye; it must’ve been an important place. It had t’ supply elves an’ dwarves!”

“Along with other humans.” He tapped a city near the river’s fork, labeled ‘Tharbad’. “An’ since we found out he was a real bloke –a real _king_ \- then he must’ve lived in this place. Kings live in important places, after all. An’ it’s the only one really near a forest. All the other cities an’ towns are in open plains.”

She nodded. “Makes sense,” she agreed. “It’s in Enedwaith, it’s near a forest, an’, accordin’ t’ this map, it was around during the time he was supposedly alive.”

“How do ya figure that?” Bofur inquired, his brow rising.

Baylee pointed to the bottom right of the map, where it read ‘Realms of the mid-second age’. “That’s how,” she told him with a small laugh, watching his cheeks turn pink.

“Ah. Well…I was figurin’ it had t’ be old because o’ all o’ these forests all over the place,” he murmured.

She nodded. “Aye. When the Númenórians came here, they did kind o’…cut down all o’ the trees. All because they wanted more an’ more ships. Like they couldn’t explore on foot or anythin’; nooo…they had t’ sail everywhere.”

Bofur cracked up as he heard her mini rant. “Âzying, ya do realize tha’ your ancestors were Númenórian, aye?” he grinned. “An’ that you grew up in a place where sailin’ was commonplace?”

“O’ course I do!” she smiled. “But that doesn’t stop me from admittin’ that the Númenórians were greedy as all get when it came t’ makin’ boats.” She motioned to the map. “Look at all these forests, Bofur. Think o’ all the deer an’ birds an’ elk that roamed through the lands back then! Not t’ mention all the edible roots an’ berries that had t’ have flourished.”

He chuckled again and lightly patted her back. “Don’t worry, âzying. There may not be as many forests in the world, but there are still some. Mirkwood, Fangorn, an’ not t’ mention, plenty o’ nameless forests in the shire an’ around Ered Luin.”

“And up north, in Forochel,” she added. “Dori told me that there are a _lot_ o’ forests up there.”

“Really? I knew he’s been north once, but didn’t think he had been _that_ far.” Moving the books off of the corners of the map, he started to roll it back up.

“What’re you doing?”

Wrapping a leather cord around its center a few times, he tied it shut. “Well, we found out that Thúnor was a real person an’ that he lived in a real place. After goin’ through most o’ this place, we haven’t found out anythin’ else. Safe t’ say that this is the most important part o’ our search for his horn so far. We’ll need t’ look at a modern map in order t’ plot a course down there.”

A tender smile softened her scarred features. “You’re really comin’ with me then?”

“O’ course I am,” he assured her. “I’d be a poor sort o’ lover if I was t’ just let ya go off on your lonesome. I mean, you’re clearly a capable warrior an’ all, but…after that last trip ya took…” Taking her hand, he gently placed a kiss on her knuckles. “I’m not lettin’ that happen again.”

Kissing his forehead, she wrapped her arms around him. “I know ya won’t,” she told him, nuzzling into him. She paused, a startled look coming to her face as her stomach rumbled loudly. “I…guess that turnover wasn’t enough for my stomach.”

He grinned cheekily. “You’re startin’ t’ get a dwarvish appetite,” he told her. “Keep it up an’ you’ll be as plump as me an’ Bifur soon enough!”

Her cheeks flushed red and she lightly shoved his shoulder. “You shush. Our lunch was tiny is all.”

Bofur still wore the cheeky grin, not believing her in the least.

 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

 

Warren let out a quiet sigh, pulling a blanket closer about his shoulders. Despite the four fires burning along the hallway, the jail was still frightfully cold. Bard had told him that it was a constant battle for the jailors; it always seemed that the cells were too cold in the winter and too hot in the summer. Warren had always thought it was a battle that didn’t need to be fought –criminals were sent to jail to be punished, after all, and the temperatures were part of that punishment. Now that he was sitting in a cell, trying to keep warm, he thought differently.

Looking across the hall, he could see Will slowly chewing on a piece of potato bread, his eyes examining the stone walls of his cell for seemingly the millionth time that day. He felt that Will was worse off in this situation: He was away from his young family, he couldn’t work on anything to occupy his mind, and the cold was making his entire left arm, from shoulder to fingertip, ache. Warren, at least, could come up with ways to escape –not that he would try any of those plans.

“Ya doin’ alright, lad?” he asked, his voice echoing through the still air.

“I’m fine. You?” Will glanced over at his father, a tired look on his face.

“Cold as all get, but alive. Why do ya keep starin’ at the walls like that?”

Shrugging, Will leaned back and inspected the last half of his roll. “Gives me somethin’ t’ do, I guess. I keep thinkin’ ‘bout how I could make timber frames an’ walls for these cells an’ stuff the space between ‘em and the walls with straw so the heat would stay in better.”

Warren nodded in understanding. “Good idea. Too bad we don’t have the means t’ make it happen. Though, admittedly, I’ve been lookin’ over the bars t’ the cells an’ thinking about how much I’d like t’ heat ‘em up in a toasty forge an’ make a nice, big fireplace out o’ ‘em.”

“Oh, that’d be nice…” Will agreed.

Chuckling, Warren tilted his head back and closed his eyes. “Think ‘bout it…ya could even fry an egg on it when it got hot enough.”

“An’ some bacon an’ sausage.”

“Or a nice, big, juicy steak.” He laughed as he heard Will grunt in agreement. “I could really go for one o’ those ‘bout right now. One o’ Galiene’s pepper-crusted ones.”

Will laughed, shaking his head. “I’d rather a nice, heart bowl of her fish stew. It warms up your whole body, what with that strange, red pepper she uses. Give me a nice, big loaf o’ Baylee’s sourdough bread an’ one o’ Adela’s fruit pies an’ I’d be set for life.”

Warren snorted. “Or at least set for one meal.” He shifted again, trying to shrink himself down into a small ball so the blankets would better cover him.

“You two are makin’ the rest o’ us hungry,” another prisoner, a young woman named Camilla, called from three cells away. She was in prison for three months on charges of petty theft. “An’ doin’ all that talkin’ ‘bout warm food ain’t doin’ much t’ keep us warm.”

“She’s right,” yet another prisoner, an older man in his early seventies, chuckled. His crime had been adultery and had three weeks left his sentence. “Unless we get the real thing, all the talk is just makin’ us homesick.”

“Maybe next time my wife comes in, I can convince her t’ bring our cook an’ a big pot o’ stew with her,” Will suggested. “After all, there are only four o’ us in this place. It can’t be that much trouble, right?”

“Bound t’ be better than the gruel they feed us,” the old man commented.

Camilla pressed her cheek against the bars of her cell and peered down the hallway. “Oh, come off it, Geoffrey –ol’ Bard makes sure we get edible food. The porridge ain’t bad at all! Better ‘n the crap I’d use t’ eat back home. Me mum couldn’t cook worth shite.”

“Nor can my wife!” Geoffrey cackled. “That’s why I was always at her sister’s!”

“Oh, cock’s arse it was. The whole city knows ‘bout your lil’ fling, Geoff.” Warren could see her cheeky grin from his spot; he had felt bad for her the second he saw her –she couldn’t have been more than fifteen. “But I’d be mighty thankful if’n younger Mister Braddock here talked his wife into such a thing. Haven’t had me a decent bowl o’ stew since I got a bowl from the Henny Pig!”

“Hen _and_ Pig,” Geoffrey corrected with a sigh.

Warren quietly chuckled. “Ol’ Matilda does make good venison stew,” he agreed with Camilla, “but I’m quite partial t’ Galiene’s stews.”

“From what I hear, she’s got some o’ the best grub in town,” Camilla sighed. “Sometimes, I’d walk by just t’ get a smell o’ it. Made my mouth water, it did.”

A small frown came to both Will and Warren’s faces. They knew full well that not everyone in Dale had the means to eat a good, filling meal every day. What didn’t help them feel any better about listening to Camilla lament about good food was that she was barely fifteen years old.

“What sort o’ work did you do before you got put in here?” Warren asked after some minutes.

She shrugged, though he couldn’t see it. “I’d run errands for the older folks in town. Didn’t make me much, but I got a few pennies. An’ them folks got food for the day. I even did a few errands for ol’ Geoff here an’ his lady. Well, his _ex-_ lady.”

Geoff grunted. “She always needed t’ have the finest teas around, didn’t she? An’ then she went an’ was frugal with everythin’ else. Didn’t let me get a new pair o’ trousers ‘til me old ones were worn bare in the knees an’ bum!”

“If she was so unpleasant, then why did ya marry her in the first place?” Will asked, frowning. “Doesn’t make much sense to me t’ go off an’ marry someone ya can’t stand.”

“She was the only one who’d have me!” he replied, his voice gruff. “I was a tanner back in my day an’ after a hard day’s work, I’d smell awful. Even after two baths, I’d have a smell ‘bout me. She was the only woman who could put up with that.” He shrugged and fell silent for a while, looking over his dirty fingernails. “Guess we used t’ love one another,” he continued, “in some fashion. But it died away after our munchkins grew up an’ got families o’ their own. Things fell apart after Smaug destroyed Lake Town an’ we found out our two youngest had perished in the fire.”

Will frowned again. “I’m sorry t’ hear that, sir.”

He watched as Geoffrey shrugged. “Heard somewhere that it’s better t’ have love an’ lost than t’ never have loved at all. Whoever said that is right.” Shifting his position, he stretched his legs out. “So, how much work do you think it’d take t’ convince the guards t’ place those braziers in our cells with us instead o’ out there in the hall?” he questioned, trying to change the subject.

“I could flash ‘em an ankle, see if that does any good,” Will joked. He was quite relieved when he heard a round of laughter come from the others.

“Don’t forget t’ add a pretty smile t’ the ankle flashin’,” Camilla giggled. “That’ll surely convince ‘em.” She closed her eyes and tilted her head back against the wall. “Nah. They’re nice enough lads. They’ll help us when they come t’ check on us again, I’m sure o’ it.”

Warren sighed, closing his eyes as well. “We can only hope…”

 

~*~*~*~*~

 

Dinner, unlike breakfast, was relatively quiet. There was still a large crowd of people filling the common room, but the inn wasn’t overly packed and the patrons were more engrossed with the food than with conversation. Bard found this to be a major relief, as it didn’t require him to sprint around tables while carrying heavy trays of food. Instead, he was manning the bar with Peter as well as tending to a plate of fried fish.

He was filling a mug with porter for someone when, from the corner of his eye, he saw the door to the inn open up. Turning fully towards the door, he watched as Baylee came in, a roll of parchment and her cloak clutched to her breast as she shook the snow off her shoulders.

“There you are!” he called, looking back at the mug in time to watch the foam begin to slip over the edge. Righting the mug, he lessened his pull on the tap until a perfectly round mound of beer foam balanced precariously atop the mug’s rim before handing it to its owner. “I was wonderin’ if you were going to spend the night in the archives or not.”

She shivered as she walked over to the bar, hopping up on one of the tall stools. “Peter, some tea, please,” she chattered, her whole body shaking. Laying the map on the table, she pushed it towards Bard as Peter hurried off. “An’ almost did spend the night in the archives,” she told the king, “but Bofur an’ I realized we had got the most useful information hours ago.”

“Bofur went with you? That’s good; it wouldn’t have been an easy task to do by yourself.” He sat back down on his own stool, offering her his still-warm biscuit, but she declined. “So what did you find?” he questioned, unfurling the map.

“Thúnor was a real man,” she informed, “an’ he was a king o’ some sort. He lived in Enedwaith.” She tapped the city she and Bofur had found on the map. “We think he lived there, since it’s the biggest city in the area; it’d make sense for a king t’ live there.”

He glanced up at her. “Anything about the horn?” he quietly asked.

She shook her head as she rubbed her arms, trying to will away the cold that still clung to her. “Nothing, which means-”

“-You’re goin’ to have to travel there to see if you can find anything.” He frowned and straightened up. “I don’t like the sound of that, Baylee, especially since winter’s here.”

“I know,” she sighed, “but somethin’ needs t’ be done t’ get my brother an’ da’ out of jail, Bard, an’ I’m not about t’ give up the Tankard to do that. Not when we worked so hard t’ rebuild it.” Peter returned with her tea and she thanked him, wrapping her hands around the cup. “How have things been around here?”

“Mighty busy until now,” Peter answered. “Ya saw breakfast; it was crazy. Lunch was a little less so. Don’t know why dinner’s so mild, but it’s relaxin’. I think all o’ us managed t’ run almost ten miles from how many people we served today.”

She smiled. “That’s good. If I weren’t so tired, it’d be a bit more obvious how happy I am t’ see that the city’s on our side.” She took a small sip from her tea, a shiver running down her back as the hot liquid warmed her from the inside out.

“Your family’s got a lot of friends,” Bard chuckled. He spun the map around, getting a better look at the Enedwaith area. “It’s no surprise they flocked here when the word spread. This is a vast distance, Baylee –further than from here to Dorwinion.”

“I’m sure I’ll survive.”

Peter frowned. “What? You’re leavin’?”

“I have t’ make preparations for it, but aye, eventually,” she replied. She pointed at Lond Daer, showing him the spot. “That’s where we think Thúnor lived. If we’re right, there’s got t’ be _something_ there that can help me get papa an’ Will out o’ jail.”

He shook his head. “That’s quite a ways…I don’t like the idea of you goin’ all that way just for probably nothin’. Who’re you goin’ t’ take with you?”

“Bofur said he’d come with me an’ I’m sure I can find at least one other person to come with. Maybe Dwalin.” She shrugged. “I’m not sure. I only just found out two hours ago that I’d be havin’ t’ travel. My main concern right now is findin’ someone t’ put in temporary ownership o’ the inn.”

“Why’s that?” Peter asked, filling himself a mug of porter.

“Because if she just up and leaves, it’ll be all too easy for Mannus t’ say she abandoned the inn,” Bard answered. “And if she leaves the Tankard in Adela’s custody, he can claim ownership o’ it through her, since he’d get the inn should Baylee be unable t’ pay his price.”

Baylee nodded. “I was thinkin’ Galiene, but she’s already got so much on her plate…” With a sigh, she slid her arms forward on the bar, letting her chin come to a rest on the tabletop. “If only Auntie an’ Uncle were here…I could easily leave it t’ them an’ not have t’ worry. Then again, I’ve the feelin’ Auntie would be tryin’ t’ force me t’ stay here instead o’ goin’ t’ Lond Daer.”

“With good reason!” Peter reminded her. “It’s winter an’ things are dangerous out there. What if you come across a pack o’ wolves? Or worse –wargs. I hear they roam the borders o’ Rohan.”

She cocked her brow. “There hasn’t been a warg pack in Rohan for over a century,” she told him. The door opened and she glanced over her shoulder, seeing Bifur holding it open for Bofur, who came in with a makeshift crutch under his arm and a bad limp in his left leg. Her eyes widening in horror, she rushed over to him. “Bofur, what in Mahal’s name happened!?”

He tried to give her a reassuring smile, but it faded when he mistakenly put his resting weight on his left leg. “Ice is a tricky thing,” he told her. Baylee and Bifur helped him over to a chair, where he sat down. Baylee fetched him a second chair so he could prop his foot up.

“How, exactly, did ya hurt your leg?” Baylee demanded, being as gentle as possible as she tucked her folded cloak under his foot.

“I was goin’ up the back steps t’ the shop an’ I slipped,” he told her. “Landed hard on me leg. Don’t think anything’s broken, though.” He cringed as he shifted. “Haven’t been t’ the doctor yet, though.”

“You haven’t been to the doctor!?” she cried, drawing some attention. Her cheeks flushing red, she raised a hand to her forehead. “Ya should have gone straight there, Bofur! What if somethin’ is seriously hurt?”

Bofur gave her a reassuring smile. “I’m a dwarf, âzying. One small spill isn’t goin’ t’ hurt me _that_ bad. I’ll just…have t’ stay off o’ my feet for a while.”

She shook her head, sighing heavily. “Bofur…” She looked down as Bifur set his hand on her shoulder.

“Is true,” he told her. “Dwarves tough. One fall not bad. Will see doctor morning. Promise.”

Knowing that it would be useless to argue, she nodded in defeat. “Alright. But if I find out ya didn’t get him t’ a doctor, I’ll…I’ll…well, I don’t know what I’ll do, but I’ll do somethin’!”

The cousins nodded. “Promise,” Bifur repeated, crossing his arms over his heart –Iglishmêk for ‘oath’. He walked off to get Bofur something to eat and drink while Baylee crouched down beside him.

“Are ya sure you’re goin’ t’ be alright?” she asked him, worry written all over her features. “I mean, you’re cringin’ with every little movement.”

Bofur nodded, kissing her forehead. “Stop frettin’, love. I’ve had worse, I promise. The thing that hurts most is the bruise I’ve got growin’ on my backside –it’s why I’m wincin’ so much. Hard t’ get comfy when your bum is half black an’ half blue,” he chuckled.

Her brow rose. “Half your bum, eh? I thought you landed on your leg, not your bum?”

He shrugged before grinning mischievously at her. “Sure feels like half o’ it’s bruised. You could check later, if ya want. I could check your bum –not for bruises, though. Just t’ look at it.” Giving her a small wink, he stole a kiss from her reddening cheek.

“You are such a twit! Here ya are, lamed up for who knows how long, an’ you’re—” She suddenly stopped short, the humor leaving her face. “Ya won’t be able t’ come with me.”

His brows furrowed. “What?”

“You won’t be able t’ come with me,” she repeated. “Not if you’re injured like that. Even if it’s not a break you’ve got, it’ll be some weeks before you can sit right, let alone walk right. Trust me, I know.”

“When were you thinkin’ o’ leaving?”

“I don’t know; sometime soon, hopefully.”

Scratching his beard, he frowned. He knew she was right, but he couldn’t let her go by herself, not after last time. He wanted to be at her side in case anything happened – _especially_ if she ran into trouble.. “I know there’s no way t’ persuade ya t’ wait until I’m healed up, but you need _someone_ t’ go with you.”

“I know!” she sighed. “I know. I just…Ugh.” She rubbed her face in frustration and cursed under her breath. “Alright. Tonight, I’m goin’ t’ focus on makin’ sure you don’t further hurt yourself, alright? Ya can even stay here; we’re closer t’ the doctor’s, anyway, an’ you can be sure t’ get the proper care while here, since I know Bifur’s been helpin’ with the shoppin’ _an’_ tryin’ t’ make more toys for the shop. How does that sound?”

“Âzying, you don’t need t’ do that! You’ve already got so much on your plate, it’s overflowing.”

“I’d feel better, knowin’ you were here,” she told him. “I can keep an eye on ya an’ you…you can keep me sane.” She gave him an exhausted smile, her hand rising to stroke her cheek.

He cupped her face in his hand and returned the look. “If it helps ya from goin’ barmy, fine. But I don’t want t’ be addin’ t’ your stress, love.”

“It’s too late for that, you ninny.” She sighed, nuzzling into his palm. “You can stay in papa’s room.”

He slightly pouted. “Why not yours?”

She lightly poked his nose as she stood up. “Because we’re not married an’ Adela would hit us both with her wooden spoon,” she informed. “I’m goin’ t’ go get his room ready for ya. I’ll be back soon.” As he grabbed her hand, she glanced back at him.

“Âzying, please,” he gave her a pleading look, “don’t wear yourself out. I know you’re stressed an’ you want t’ help your family, but if ya do _too_ much, it’ll do more harm than good.”

Leaning over, she pulled his hat off and kissed the top of his head. “I’ll be fine.” Replacing his hat, she patted his shoulder before walking off.

Bofur watched her, a worried frown on his face. ‘No, you’re not.’


	35. 35

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my various gods, I am so, so very sorry that it took two months to update! I feel horrible about it, especially since this chapter is so pitifully short. I have been so strapped for inspiration on my Hobbit fics, it's not even funny. Not to mention, when good weather comes to this part of Washington, I find myself having to do yard work since my parents no longer have the time to do it. :( Over all, it's not a good combination of things to happen when you're trying to write the last arc of a story...Again, I am so very sorry for the delay and I am thankful to everyone who's stuck around and is still reading. I <3 you guys and gals big time!

Warren tiredly rubbed his face before taking a long, slow drink from the mug he held. Delicious, hot broth slid down the back of his throat before reaching his stomach; a shiver ran down his spine as his body was filled with warmth. Across from him, Will was greedily chugging down his second mugful of piping-hot soup while Adela futilely tried to get him to slow down lest he make himself sick. The frigid air of the jail, however, helped to further bring ruin to her efforts.

Three cells down, Baylee passed a clay mug of steaming soup to Camilla, who heartily thanked her. Warren couldn’t help but notice that Camilla now wore the wool gloves that had been covering his daughter’s hands just a little while ago. Unlike Camilla and Will, Geoff sat in his cell, delicately cradling his first serving of soup in his hands, letting its warmth soak into his skin. He would take a sip of the liquid every few minutes, his eyes closing and a soft sigh leaving his mouth.

Bard had ordered for more blankets and coats to be given to the prisoners, as well as each cell with a person behind it to have its own brazier placed within. Despite these efforts, however, the cold always managed to find its way in through the cold, unforgiving stone.

As Baylee came back towards the soup pot, which sat between his and Will’s cells, Warren leaned forward slightly. “’Lee?” he quietly hearkened.

“Aye, papa?” she inquired, walking over to him. “Do ya want more soup?”

He shook his head before pausing for a moment; thinking it over, he then nodded. “Aye, please,” he replied, handing her his cup. He watched as she went to fill it up with more soup, being careful to not let her fingers touch the hot liquid. “But I also wanted t’ know how you’re holdin’ up. Ya look exhausted, love.”

A weary smile came to her lips. “I’m fine, papa,” she quietly reassured him as she wiped away a bit of soup that had dribbled down the side of the mug. “Aye, I’m tired, but that’s because I’ve been doin’ the jobs o’ three people the past few days.” Handing it back to him, she brushed an ashy lock from her freckled cheeks. “I’m more content t’ run around an inn rather than run the inn itself.”

“I know, love.” He blew the steam away from the surface of the soup before taking the smallest of sips. “What ‘bout the inn? How have things been?”

She lightly shrugged. “Surprisingly well,” she informed. “Business hasn’t slowed at all –if anythin’, we’ve got more customers comin’ in now that they’ve heard ‘bout our plight. Almost all our rooms are filled…Can’t say I think it’ll stay that way for long, though. I know most folk have been comin’ just because they know that you an’ Will are in here.”

“We’ll be out o’ here someday,” he told her.

Nodding in agreement, she again smiled. “Bofur an’ I think we’ve got a pretty good idea o’ where the Horn o’ Thúnor is,” she began, “or at least where Thúnor lived.”

At that, Warren frowned. “Baylee, tell me you’re jokin’ –ya know full well tha’ Thúnor’s Horn is just a story for wee ones.”

“But Bofur an’ me found some evidence, papa,” she countered. “We’ve found his named mentioned in old texts; he really lived-”

“’Lee, don’t you think somethin’ like the horn –somethin’ o’ incredible importance an’ magical value- would have shown up in those old texts as well? After all, it could supposedly heal or poison a person, all dependin’ on their intentions.”

“Papa-”

“An’ even if it was real, it would have been taken t’ Minas Tirith long after Thúnor’s line died out,” he continued. “The Kings o’ Gondor –an’ now, Stewards- could have used it t’ tell friend from foe, don’t you think?” He shook his head and let out a heavy sigh. “No. Baylee, love, ya need t’ face it. The horn doesn’t exist. The only way Will an’ I are gettin’ out o’ here is by givin’ Mannus the Tankard.”

Her eyes widened and she backed away from him. “No!” she cried, drawing the attention of Adela and Will. “Why would ya even _think_ that? He’s the reason the two o’ ya are in here in the first place! I’m not about t’ hand ownership o’ the inn over t’ the likes o’ him!”

“’Lee,” Warren spoke, his voice firm, but calm, “the only other way t’ free us from here would be for ya t’ marry him. I’m not ‘bout t’ give him my only daughter.”

Her hands moving to rest atop her hips, Baylee glared up at her father. “So you’d rather give him your life’s work instead?” she snapped. “We’ve already lost the Tankard t’ one worm an’ I’m not about t’ let another one get his hands on it.”

“Goin’ after the horn will get ya nowhere, Baylee!” he scolded. “Mannus knows it’s not real –why else would he send ya on such a fool’s errand? If you go an’ take too long t’ come back, he’ll be able t’ claim the inn as rightful payment!”

Baylee unconsciously straightened up. “He’s not getting’ our inn,” she sternly stated. “Real or now, I’m to Lond Daer an’ at the very least _search_ for the damned horn.” Warren opened his mouth to argue, but she cut him off before he could utter the first syllable. “I _have_ to do this, papa. I swore t’ the Valar I would. While I’m gone, I’m goin’ t’ put the Tankard under Galiene an’ Bofur’s temporary ownership. I’ve already checked with Bard; it’s perfectly legal _an’_ keeps Mannus from claiming it. Galiene will handle the inn’s chores while Bofur does the finances.

“I’ve already put in an order with the cobbler for a pair o’ traveling boots an’ I’m still lookin’ for someone t’ travel with me. I’d take Bofur, but he went an’ injured his leg quite badly, thus him stayin’ here. I already got my saddlebags packed an’ my spear sharpened. Once the boots are finished, I’m leavin’ the day after.”

Warren looked down at his daughter, his mind swirling with a strange combination of anger, hurt, and pride. Now, more than ever, he was forced to realize that Baylee was no longer a child, but a grown woman. In her short twenty-four years of life, she had endured more than most humans would in their entire lifetime and evidence of this was written across her face. Not just in the scars she bore, but in her eyes as well: They were full of fierce determination and strength. He knew full well she wouldn’t back down from the quest.

With a defeated sigh, he looked away. “You are your mother’s daughter,” he murmured with a soft chuckle. “Lond Daer is a long journey, even in the best weather. Ya wouldn’t be back until autumn at the soonest.”

Her shoulders relaxing, Baylee slowly nodded. “Aye, I know. I was goin’ t’ follow the mountains south until the Gap o’ Rohan. Then it’s north an’ west from there.”

He slowly shook his head. “Ya’d have t’ go around too many forests if ya did that,” he informed her.

“It’s winter,” she protested. “The mountain passes will be impossible-”

“Take the Celduin until ya come t’ the Mountains o’ Mirkwood,” he instructed, “then go through the Old Forest Road. It’ll be a hard road, but the elves have been keepin’ it clear. With luck, you’ll have their help. Once on the other side, follow the _western_ shores o’ the Anduin until ya come t’ Emyn Muil. It’s important that ya stay on the western side, alright? It’ll be nigh impossible t’ cross the further south you get.” Baylee nodded in understanding. “Then go west. You’ll go through the East Emnet, cross a small river, then the West Emnet. The village your mother an’ aunt came from lies somewhere in those vast fields –ya know the name o’ it. If your uncle an’ grandparents still live, they’ll surely help ya.”

“I’ve never met them, though. How am I supposed t’ know what they look like? An’ how are they supposed t’ believe that I’m Éolynna’s daughter?”

At that, Warren let out a laugh. “Baylee, save for your hair, you’re the spittin’ image o’ your mother! Especially right now, mind you. They’ll know who ya are sure enough.”

“But how am _I_ supposed t’ know them?”

Warren thought for a moment; as he did so, he took a long, slow drink from his soup. “Ya only have their names t’ go by, I guess.”

“I only know Evoric’s name.”

“Well, then you find Evoric. He has one o’ the largest herds in the East Emnet; I’m sure he won’t be too hard t’ find. He’s also got black hair; most o’ Rohan is blonde or redheaded.” He took another long drink from his soup, this time draining the cup. “An’ ‘Lee –for the love o’ the Valar, find _someone_ t’ travel with ya. I know you’re determined t’ leave as soon as possible, but I think ya learned full well that travel is dangerous, even in groups.”

She nodded, taking his mug from him and moving to refill it for the second time. “I will, papa. Even if it means draggin’ Dwalin or Peter with me.”

Warren’s brow rose. “Peter would be a good option, actually. He’s good with horses, just as big as me, an’ he knows how t’ fight.” Taking the soup yet again, he let its warmth soak into his palms for a time.

“He’s also been helpin’ Wenna an’ Lovisa with tables,” she told him. “He’ll be my last resort.”

 

* * *

 

 

Bofur sighed as he lightly tamped down the tobacco leaves in his pipe. His leg ached something fierce, but he ignored the pain as he struck a match and brought the flame to rest amongst the leaves. Around him, the Full Tankard hummed with conversations as peopled dined on their midday meals, having nothing else better to do on a chilly winter’s day.

Glancing up, he watched as Wenna crossed his path, her arms laden with steaming mugs of hot cider and mulled wine. Across the room, Peter was setting bread trenches full of cheese soup in front of a group of elderly men. The door to the inn opened, bringing with it a gust of bitter wind, snowflakes, and-

Before he could see who entered, Bombur obscured his vision. His brother sat down across from him, a tray of food in his hands. “It’s high time you ate something,” the younger dwarf said, setting a bread trench of soup in front of him.

“I’m not terribly hungry right now, Bombur,” Bofur replied. “But thanks anyway.”

“Which means something’s bothering ya.” The redheaded dwarf set his own bread bowl on the table before laying out plates of roasted vegetables and tankards of ale. “You’re my brother, Bofur, an’ I know when something’s troubling you. So, tell me: What’s on your mind?”

He let out a heavy sigh and slouched forward, exhaling smoke through his nostrils. “It’s Baylee. She’s wearin’ herself out, what with havin’ t’ get ready for a long journey as well as take care o’ the inn. I know for a fact that she hasn’t gotten a full night’s sleep since this whole fiasco started an’ she refuses t’ take a break. Not t’ mention, she’s not eaten more ‘n half a meal a day!”

Bombur nodded in understanding as he sprinkled some ground pepper over his soup. “She’s stressed. Half o’ her family’s wrongfully in jail and she can’t do anythin’ ‘bout it. What would you do if ya found yourself in her position?”

“Try my damnedest t’ help,” Bofur replied. He raised a spoonful of soup from the bowl only to tip the spoon and watch it pour back in. “An’ I know that’s what she’s doin’, but…” He sighed again. “I don’t know. I’d go t’ my friends for help, I guess. Baylee’s already done that, though. She’s got all the help she can get –or at least she’s willin’ t’ get.”

His brow rose. “What do ya mean, she willing to get?”

“Knowin’ Baylee, she feels like if she asked for any more help than what she’s currently got, she’d be troublin’ people. After all, most o’ _her_ friends have businesses an’ families o’ their own; she wouldn’t want t’ bother them.” He breathed in another lungful of smoke before letting it escape through his mouth.

Bombur was quiet for a moment, mulling over his thoughts as he chewed on a bit of roasted parsnip. “That’s one o’ the things about people,” he finally stated. “Those who help others rarely seek out help themselves, even when they need it the most.

Bofur nodded. “An’ o’ course, Baylee really needs the help right now…”

Out of nowhere, a third chair was planted beside the table and Dís sat down, white flakes of snow still clinging to her hair and beard. “What is going on with Miss Baylee?” she questioned, pulling off her gloves. “I have heard a rumor or two, but nothing more.” Unclasping her cloak, she gave it a light toss so that it draped itself over the back of her seat.

“A rival o’ theirs had her brother an’ father arrested,” Bofur explained while Bombur used Iglishmêk to ask Dís if she wanted anything to eat. “An’ the only ways t’ get them out o’ jail is by givin’ the arse either the Full Tankard, Baylee’s hand in marriage, or somethin’ called Thúnor’s Horn.”

Bombur scooted his chair back as Dís signed her order back and waddled off towards the kitchens. Dís, on the other hand, furrowed her brows. “Thúnor’s Horn?”

Bofur nodded. “Apparently, it was a fae tale in these parts-”

“I have heard of it.”

At that, Bofur’s brows furrowed. “What?”

She nodded, stealing one of the roasted carrots. “I have heard of it,” she repeated. “When I was younger, Thorin, Frerin, and I had to studies the histories of Middle Earth’s royalties. It belonged to an ancient king of men; it was his hunting horn.”

“Well, that’s different from the story Baylee told me. In the tales she’s heard, it was a drinkin’ horn that could either kill ya or heal ya dependin’ on if you were evil or not.”

Scratching her beard, Dís lightly shrugged. “I guess that is the element that made it a fae tale then,” she mused.

“That, an’ the fact that he slew a troll with the vessel,” Bofur chuckled. “Strange, though, that Baylee an’ I couldn’t find anythin’ like that in the archives. We had t’ have searched through most o’ the old texts in the place.”

Again, she shrugged. “Thúnor was renowned for slaying a great many troll throughout his life. And it may be that you did not find much because Dale is not nearly as old as other settlements in Middle Earth.” She then paused, giving Bofur a worried look. “Bofur…please tell me that Miss Baylee does not intend to seek out the horn.”

“Well, she’s not ‘bout t’ marry him or give him the Tankard,” he told her. “Frankly, I’d be more than willin’ t’ just throw a few gold bars at his head –Mahal knows I’ve got enough- but the guy is an arse. Apparently, he’s been tryin t’ ruin Warren for years. Baylee’s tryin’ to find herself a companion or two t’ go with her; I’d go with, but…” He motioned at his injured leg, which was propped up on a stool.

Dís frowned and lightly shook her head. “Such a horrible thing to happen to such a nice family…” she murmured. She glanced around at the inn, trying to find any sign of the innkeeper’s daughter. “Where is Miss Baylee now?”

“She an’ Adela are at the jail. They take warm meals t’ Warren an’ Will.”

She nodded in understanding as Bombur returned. “Thank you, Bombur,” she told him as he set a hot mug of mulled wine down, as well as a large, bread bowl of soup. “Oh, cheese soup! It has been a long while since I have had this.”

“One of the last bowls,” Bombur chuckled. “It’s been quite popular today.”

Tapping the ashes out of his pipe, Bofur decided that it was best to put some food in his belly. He took a small spoonful of soup only to turn scarlet as his stomach made a rather loud noise. Dís’ brow rose while Bombur chuckled. “Apparently I’m hungrier than I thought,” he mused.

Bombur pointed his soup-covered spoon at him. “See? I knew you needed t’ eat. It’s alright t’ be worried about your lass, but if you’ve got any sort o’ mind ‘bout keepin’ up with her, you need to eat.”

“Has he not been eating?” Dís questioned, looking at Bombur with concern.

“He has, but not as much as a normal dwarrow should.”

Bofur cocked his brow. “Hey now –the pain in my leg is part o’ the reason I’m not eatin’ much!” he argued. “You try eatin’ when your entire leg is just one massive ache!”

“I’d rather not, thank ya very much,” Bombur retorted, his brow raised. “And don’t you try lying that poorly again. I know full well that you’re worried over your lass and that’s why you’re not eatin’.”

His cheeks turning red once more, Bofur said nothing, choosing to instead shove a large spoonful of soup in his mouth. A somewhat tense silence fell between the three dwarrows. Dís glanced between the brothers as she ate a bit of crust from the top of her bowl, noticing that Bofur was keeping his gaze facing downwards while Bombur seemed to look everywhere _but_ at his brother. It was obvious to her that this was not the first time the brothers had argued over such a matter.

“When does she plan to leave?” she quietly asked, scraping the last of soup from her bread.

“Soon as the cobbler finishes a pair o’ boots she ordered,” Bofur replied. “Why?”

“And you said she was seeking a companion?”

Bofur looked at her as he cautiously nodded. “Aye, she is,” he slowly answered. He had a strong feeling he knew what the next phrase Dís uttered would be and he had to admit, he did not like the thought much.

Brushing some crumbs from her beard and chest, Dís shrugged. “Then I shall go with her.”

“No!” Bombur and Bofur chorused.

“My lady, you’ve already traveled so far,” Bombur protested. “You’ve crossed Middle Earth twice in your life; surely you wouldn’t want t’ cross it again?”

Bofur’s argument was quite a bit more valid. “This is somethin’ more befitting o’ Dwalin, my lady,” he told her. “I’m sure he’d be more ‘n pleased t’ see a bit o’ adventure!”

Dís brow rose and she unconsciously straightened her posture and lifted her shoulders in the way that royal females do when it came to verbal defense. “I will have you both know that I am more than capable of traveling such a distance, especially if it means helping someone in need,” she retorted. “Not only that, but perhaps I wish to have my own journey of sorts so that I may honor the memories of my adventurous sons and my brother.

“Therefore, I shall join Miss Baylee and provide her with assistance in her quest for Thúnor’s Horn.” She then took a drink from her wine, ignoring the shocked looks from her dining companions. Then, as an afterthought, she added, “And I will have you both know, I know the area of Lond Daer quite well; after all, Thorin and I searched for father there for half a year.”

Their cheeks turning as red as Bombur’s hair, the brothers looked down at their laps (or, in Bombur’s case, his stomach) in shame. They knew they shouldn’t doubt Dís –not only did she come from one of the strongest lines of dwarves, but female dwarves were more often than not hardier than male dwarves. Regardless, Bofur worried for the safety of both females; he had nearly lost Baylee once and he did not want it to happen again.

 

* * *

 

 

Baylee winced as she stamped the snow off her boots and shook it from her skirts. Shrugging off her cloak, she let out a quiet sigh as the warmth of the kitchen began to chase the chill away from her. The moment she hung up her cloak, Galiene hurried over and, lightly grabbing the girl by her shoulders, brought her over to a chair where she forced Baylee to sit.

“You’ve been gone since before dawn!” scolded the cook. “When Adela came back an’ ya weren’t with her, I had half a mind t’ go out lookin’ for you myself.” She shook her head as she plucked up one of the last crusty loaves of bread and proceeded to cut the top off of it. “I know you’ve got a lot t’ do, Baylee, but tryin’ t’ get it done all in one day?” Again, she shook her head.

“I had t’ go t’ Erebor,” explained Baylee. She thanked Gawen as he placed a mug of warm cider beside her. “I bought a new spear an’ dagger as well as ordered some warm travelin’ clothes.”

Galiene glanced up from hollowing out the bread. “Why couldn’t ya place the order here in Dale?” she questioned.

“The dwarves are faster when it comes t’ makin’ things,” she replied. She glanced around the kitchen, finding that she, Galiene, and Gawen were the only ones occupying it. “Where are the others?”

Gawen looked over his shoulder at her. “Baylee, it’s nearly ten,” he told her. “They’ve either gone home or turned in for the night.”

At that, Baylee frowned. “What? It can’t possibly be that late…” She rubbed her face in an attempt to make her nose and cheeks warm up faster.

Galiene grabbed a ladle and filled the bread to the brim with beef stew. “It is. Now can ya see why I was worried about you, lass?” She shoved a spoon into it before putting the meal in front of Baylee. “Ya left before sunrise an’ returned long after sunset. I’m surprised you’re not an icicle right now!”

Stretching her bad leg out, she leaned forward and took a bite of the warm stew. “I was plenty warm most o’ the day, I promise,” she assured the cook. “The only time it got real cold was when I was walkin’ back from Erebor-”

“You _walked_ to Erebor an’ back!?”

“The roads were clear o’ snow! It was just cold because the wind picked up.” She took another bite of the stew, her stomach making a rather embarrassing noise as it finally got a bit of food in it. Ignoring the noise, she took a long drink of the cider before downing more stew.

“It would have been better t’ take a pony,” Gawen spoke. “Easier on your leg _an’_ it would have been faster.”

At that, Galiene frowned. “That’s right…How’s your leg? Surely all tha’ walking around couldn’t be too good for it.”

“Can’t really feel it right now,” Baylee lied. “I didn’t push myself; I took plenty o’ sittin’ breaks.” That hadn’t been a lie; many times throughout the day found her seeking a sit-down so that she could massage some of the pain out of her leg and hip. “Have ya seen Bofur today?”

Gawen nodded. “Just helped him get out o’ the bath, as a matter o’ fact. He’s in the back, no doubt gettin’ ready for bed.”

Baylee slowly nodded, looking down at her stew. A pang of guilt temporarily ruined her appetite and she let out a quiet sigh. “I think I’ll finish my meal back there,” she told them, standing up. “I think I’ve seen ya two more in the last few days than I’ve seen him.” Grabbing a bowl, she carefully slid her bread into it, making it easier to carry.

Bofur looked up when she pushed open the door to the private quarters, a smile coming to his tired features when he saw her. Forgetting about his injury, he started to push himself up so that he could help her, but a bolt of searing pain shot up his leg. A hiss left his mouth and he quickly plopped back down.

“Now why’d ya go an’ do that?” Baylee lightly teased, kissing his temple. Balancing her mug and stew on one arm, she used her free hand to drag a chair alongside his.

“Because I went an’ forgot I’m hurt,” he replied, shifting in his seat. When Baylee had gotten situated in her chair, he pulled her even closer to his spot before snaking his arm around her waist. “You were gone a long time.”

A small frown came to her face and she quietly sighed. “I know,” she murmured. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I had been gone literally all day.” Kissing his cheek, she closed her eyes and rested her head against his shoulder. “An’ I’m sorry I haven’t been here much.” The feeling of guilt started to grow in her stomach when Bofur didn’t respond right away.

“I can’t say that I don’t mind,” he admitted, “but you’ve got a lot on your plate right now.” His fingers started to unconsciously toy with her hair, brushing it back as she ate so it wouldn’t get in the way. “Most people would have just given up by now, but you’re still goin’.”

“Only reason I am is because I’ve gotten so much help.” She offered him a bite of stew, a small smile appearing on her lips when he tilted his head forward, snatching the spoon between his teeth. “Without ya an’ the others, I’d probably be more o’ a wreck than this. I mean, I’m still a wreck, but at least my friends are makin’ sure I’ve not locked myself away in my room.”

At that, Bofur chuckled. “Even if ya did that, I’d still manage t’ find a way t’ get in an’ make ya eat an’ whatnot,” he told her. “Though, speakin’ o’ help…I found ya a traveling companion.”

She seemed to perk as he said the words. “Oh? Who?”

Scratching the back of his head, he glanced away. “Dís.”

“Dís?” she asked, blinking. “Really? I was expectin’ ya t’ say Dwalin or Dori or someone…not Dís.” She looked down at her stew as she stirred her spoon in small circles through her. “I appreciate it, though. I really didn’t want t’ go on a journey by myself.”

He nodded in understanding. “She’s a strong fighter,” he explained, “an’ she knows the area ‘round Lond Daer pretty well.”

Tilting her head, Baylee cocked her brow. “She does?”

“Aye. She an’ Thorin traveled that area quite a bit when they were younger.” He scratched his beard with his free hand before glancing down at Baylee. Dark circles lined the bottom of her eyes, making him frown slightly. “Her knowledge will probably be better than some o’ those maps we found.”

Setting her bowl on the floor, Baylee shifted her position so that she could better snuggle again Bofur. “Aye…I also got some help from my da’ –mostly ‘bout how t’ get down there good an’ fast.”

“Go through the mountains?”

She shook her head, wrapping her arms around his midsection. “Take the Old Forest Road an’ follow the river south. Then I can cut across land t’ the Gap o’ Rohan an’ then go north.” She found it amusing how her strange position was oddly comfortable; with no pressure on her bad leg, it did not ache nearly as much, though her body was draped over the arms of two chairs. “The lands further south should be warmer, too, even if it’s winter. If they’ve not got much snow, travel will be easier.”

“That makes sense. It’d be safer, too, since ya won’t have t’ worry ‘bout avalanches an’ sudden snow storms blockin’ your path.” He let his head fall back against the chair, his eyes closing. “It’d be even faster if ya had a raft o’ some sort t’ travel the river with.” His fingers continued to play with her hair for a few more minutes before she reached up and lightly clasped the ends of his fingers.

“The Anduin is dangerous,” she murmured. The combination of a long day and little sleep was beginning to beat Baylee’s efforts of staying awake. “Especially at this time o’ year. S’already fast ‘n’ deep –don’t need t’ be on it when there could be flash floods from winter rains...”

“’Least ya wouldn’t be in a wine barrel,” Bofur mumbled, starting to also fall asleep. “Thems not so good…bumpy ride…”

Gathering her last bit of energy, Baylee glanced up as she heard Bofur’s words fade into quiet snoring. She smiled and kissed his jaw before nuzzling into his shoulder, succumbing to slumber herself.


	36. 36

Someone was quietly humming.

Baylee’s brows furrowed slightly as she began to wake up; the humming didn’t belong to Bofur. As she listened to it a bit longer, she realized that she didn’t know _who_ was humming, but that it was at least feminine in nature. She opened her eyes a bit only to close them again when the world was too blurry. Starting to sit upright, she yawned and stretched her arms out, arching her back as well and feeling many small ‘pops’ as the bones in her spine realigned themselves.

“It is about time you woke up.”

Her eyes flicked open yet again as Dís’ voice filled her ears and she felt her cheeks redden. “Wh-What are ya doin’ back here?” she questioned. She then noticed that, while she was still in the chair she had fallen asleep in, Bofur was missing. A blanket had also been placed over her and here dinner bowl taken away. “An’ where’s Bofur?”

Dís quietly chuckled as she stood up from stocking the fire. “He’s off, taking a bath,” she informed the human. “He wanted to bring you some breakfast, but ended up with porridge in his hair. Do not ask how; I merely saw the aftermath.” Going over to the table, she picked up a tray and brought it over to Baylee as she sat upright. “You’ll be bathing after breakfast; Adela and Galiene’s orders. They also would like me to tell you that you won’t be going out today.”

Her brow rising, Baylee adjusted the blanket around her legs before taking the tray from her. “Is that so?” she mused. “An’ why do they think that I shouldn’t go out?”

Giving her a knowing smile, Dís pointed towards her feet. “You were so exhausted last night, not only did you and Bofur fall asleep out here, but you did not even have the sense to remove your boots.”

Baylee peeked down at the floor, lifting the blanket enough to see whether or not Dís was lying. She was more than a little embarrassed to realize that she had, indeed, left her boots on. “Well, I _had_ planned on takin’ them off,” she murmured before shoving a spoonful of porridge in her mouth. “Just…fell asleep before I got that far.”

“Clearly, you needed the rest,” Dís replied, sitting down in the empty chair. She watched as Baylee lightly kicked her boots off, frowning slightly when she saw the pained look on her face. “Are you alright?”

She nodded. “Aye, my hip’s just a wee bit sore is all.” She ate more of the porridge before tearing the small loaf of bread into pieces. “So what brings ya back here, milady?” she questioned, stirring the bread into her porridge.

“Well, I wanted to discuss coming with you on your quest,” Dís answered, the concerned look still on her face. She turned her attention to the fire as it crackled in the hearth. “I know it is rather sudden, but Bofur mentioned how you were in need of a companion…”

Baylee nodded as she swallowed. “Aye! Last night, Bofur mentioned t’ me that ya had volunteered,” she smiled. “Ya have no idea how much o’ a weight that takes off o’ my shoulders.”

Dís smiled. “I’m glad to hear that. After I volunteered, I had begun to worry if you would find it…odd, I guess, since we’ve only met a handful of times.”

“You’re a good friend t’ the lads,” Baylee laughed, “an’ I trust their judgment. So far, ya seem t’ live up t’ everything they’ve said ‘bout you –all o’ it is good, by the way. Though, I’ve yet t’ see how well ya can fight. I’m hopin’ things don’t come t’ that, though.”

“Mahal grace us,” Dís chuckled in agreement. “When I traveled here, I found no trouble –but that was during spring and summer, when food and traveling companions were plentiful. In winter, we may not find ourselves so lucky.”

Again, Baylee nodded. “Aye; that’s why I went an’ bought a new spear an’ dagger yesterday. I’m havin’ a few things altered on the spear, though, so I’ll be gettin’ it in a few days.”

“Altered? How?”

“Well, for one, it was just a tad too heavy for me, so the craftsman is goin’ t’ thin the shaft out a wee bit,” she explained, “as well add a leather grip for me, since I’m not goin’ t’ be throwin’ it. Oh, an’ he’s makin’ one edge o’ the spearhead serrated t’ give me a wee edge in combat.”

It was Dís’ turn to have her brow rise. “Is that so? I would not have expected you to be the sort to wield a spear in such a fashion, to be honest.”

“I can use a sword, too,” she replied, “but even short swords are a wee bit too big for me, thanks t’ how small I am. Dwalin was sayin’ something when he was sparrin’ with me that a spear seems right for me, anyhow, since I’ve got Rohirric blood in me.” She shrugged, taking a moment to eat more breakfast. “I don’t know, t’ be honest. I just know that, if I have t’ wield a weapon, a spear is goin’ t’ be my first choice from now on. Certainly won’t be usin’ a meat cleaver again anytime soon…”

“…A meat cleaver…?”

Her cheeks turned pink again. “Er…Battle o’ Five Armies, I had t’ use a meat cleaver. All the other weapons were taken or broken…”

Dís nodded her understanding. “Not many can say they’ve fought with such tools,” she chuckled. “I, myself, prefer the bow, though I will also have an axe with me.”

“Do you know how to hunt? I imagine we’ll have to do a bit of that when we head out.”

“I know enough to allow me to survive for a couple weeks,” she replied, “but let us try to not stay in the elements for that long. It would mean our deaths in winter.”

“ _If_ there is snow in the area,” Baylee added. “It’s much farther south o’ here; papa says there shouldn’t be too much snow to worry about.”

Cocking her head, Dís gave her a curious look. “Is that so? I’ve only been there in spring and summer. I will say that it was warmer than our home in Ered Luin at that time of year…but I did not think it was _that_ much warmer.”

“I don’t really know how papa knows it,” Baylee admitted, “but he also told me what route t’ take. It’ll take us through Rohan, but I’ve family there and they could, possibly, help us.” She scraped the remnants of porridge from the side of her bowl before resting it on her knee.

“So, we will follow the Anduin then?” Baylee nodded. “Makes sense; traveling along a river will ensure a quick route…” She scratched her beard as she fell quiet, contemplating the course. “Truth be told, I’ve never been to Rohan,” she unconsciously murmured.

Baylee shrugged and began to unbraid her hair. “Me neither. From what I remember, my mother said that most everyone looks similar: They’re all tall, blonde, an’ smell like horse,” she chuckled.

“Well, that certainly narrows it down, doesn’t it?” She smiled. “Are you still hungry, by the way?”

Shaking her head, Baylee blew a lock of hair out of her face. “Nah. The bread an’ porridge filled me up. Thank-you, by the way, for bringin’ it in here for me.”

“I thought you would rather not deal with Galiene and Adela scolding you with your breakfast,” she mused. “During your bath, however, is an entirely different story. From what I hear, Adela plans to scrub you from head to toe and give you an earful.”

Baylee cringed at the thought. “Oh dear,” she murmured. “Sadly, I don’t doubt that that’s exactly what I’ll have t’ endure. Adela lives up t’ her promises.”

Dís laughed. “That is a good quality to have, at least!” she joked as she stood up. “Come along; it is best to not delay the inevitable.” She offered her hand to help the woman up from her chair.

Pouting, Baylee took her hand and stood up. “I can always bathe tomorrow,” she protested. “Adela will have forgotten by then, I’m sure.”

“A mother has a long memory, especially when it comes to giving someone a stern talking-to.”

As the two of them stepped out of the private quarters, they were greeted by the sight of Adela walking towards them. She wore a sling across her torso, inside which the two females knew Folki lay. The moment she saw Baylee, the redhead put her hands on her hips and gave her a _very_ motherly look.

“I suppose Lady Dís has already told ya ‘bout today?” she questioned.

Nodding, Baylee jokingly held her wrists out to be shackled. “Aye, an’ I’m ready t’ be dragged off t’ meet my fate,” she replied solemnly. “Make sure I’m squeaky clean before ya kill me?”

“Very funny,” Adela sighed, grabbing her wrist. “If a day o’ sitting on your arse is what kills ya, then it’s no wonder ya haven’t taken a break all week.” She excused the both of them from Dís presence before dragging her off towards the bathing room. “Ya really do have us all worried ‘bout ya, ‘Lee,” she quietly told her as she closed the door behind them. “All this runnin’ ‘round an’ not lettin’ yourself rest…” She shook her head.

Baylee fell silent as she went back to unbraiding her hair. Her stomach started to feel uneasy as guilt filled her thoughts and she found that she couldn’t bring herself to look at her sister-in-law. She knew that she had been keeping herself busy –it was a distraction to prevent herself from getting upset- but she hadn’t realized that she had been worrying her loved ones _that_ much.

Adela looked up from stirring some bath oils into the warm water only to find Baylee chewing on the end of a braid, her gaze fixed on the floor. “…Baylee?”

“Hmm?” She didn’t move her gaze or stop chewing.

Sighing, Adela stood up and went over to her. She took the braid from her hand and tucked it behind her ear before resting her hands on her shoulders. “Baylee,” she began, her voice gentler, “I know you’re hurtin’. We’re all hurtin’, but no doubt, you’ve got it the worst. But that doesn’t mean ya should go pushin’ yourself like this. You’ve only just finished healin’ up.”

“I know,” she murmured. “I just…If I don’t do somethin’, I get upset. I’ve spent enough time cryin’ over this mess, so I want t’ do somethin’ productive t’ keep my mind off o’ it.”

Adela nodded. “I know what ya mean. Ever since your da’ an’ Will were taken, I’ve spent most o’ my free time sewin’. This lil’ one,” she looked down at Folki, who was sleeping soundly, and smiled tenderly, “hasn’t been much o’ a handful, either –Thank Manwë.”

A small smile graced Baylee’s lips as she reached over and lightly stroked her nephew’s chubby cheek. “Aye, he’s got his daddy’s temperament –for now. Let’s hope it stays when he gets older.”

Glancing at the smaller woman, Adela chuckled. “Don’t think you’ve managed t’ change the subject, though,” she gently warned before spinning Baylee around. She started to unlace the back of her dress. “You need a nice, long day o’ resting. I know ya said ya need somethin’ t’ keep your mind off o’ things, so we’ll find ya an easy task to do, how’s that?”

“I guess it’s goin’ t’ have t’ be alright,” she replied. “I can’t really sneak out, now can-”

Adela’s eyes suddenly widened. “Baylee Braddock!” she gasped. “What in Varda’s name is this on your back!?”

Baylee cringed. “I…guess I forgot t’ mention that…” she murmured with a sheepish chuckle. “Er, well, as ya can see, I’ve got myself a lovely dwarven warrior’s tattoo.” Looking over her shoulder, she could see that Adela still appeared quite flabbergasted. “Dwalin did it.”

“Dwalin…?” Adela mumbled.

“Aye, Dwalin. Ya wouldn’t think he’s got this sort o’ skill, but there he goes an’ makes these gorgeous things…”

“Does your da’ know?”

“…Not…yet.”

“Will he know?”

“After this is all over.”

“Maybe tell him now…just in case his reaction isn’t pleasant.”

Baylee winced.

 

* * *

 

 

Dwalin cocked his head as he heard the door to the mansion open and close. “Balin?” he called.

“Afraid not.” Dís unclasped her cloak as she came into the room. “Sorry if I disappointed you.” She gave him a small smile. “I thought you and Ori were going to have lunch together today?”

“We were, but Zori’s not feelin’ well an’ Nori an’ Dori had t’ meet an important potential client, so he offered to babysit.”

“Ah. Well, good for them, I guess, though poor Zori. Do you know if it was anything he ate?”

He shook his head and closed his book before setting it aside. “Ori thinks Nori an’ him spent a wee bit too much time out in the snow yesterday. Dori thinks it’s because Nori’s constantly takin’ him around the market. _I_ think the lad’s just gotten a normal round of fever and tummy troubles. Dwarrow babes don’t get sick nearly as often as human babes, though, so I could be wrong.” He shrugged. “I hope I’m not, though. Don’t want the wee thing feelin’ under the weather for too long.”

She nodded as she sat down. “And I suppose this is the first real time he’s gotten sick? I’m surprised Nori’s not overreacting and being highly protective of him,” she chuckled.

“Oh, he was, but he also knew that this customer was apparently big business,” he chuckled. “Ori’s doin’ a fine job o’ takin’ care of him, though. He shooed me out of the house, though…apparently a big brute like me was too loud t’ be around napping babes.” Propping his feet up on the cushion before him, he tilted his head back. “So what’s goin’ on over in Dale?” He picked up his mug of tea and started to take a drink.

“Quite a bit, and none of it quite so good.” Shaking her head, she smoothed out her skirts. “Lady Baylee’s father and brother were thrown in jail.”

Dwalin spat his tea out in shock. “They were WHAT!?” he cried, eye wide. “How in Mahal’s nae did that happen!? They’re not the sorts t’ get into trouble!”

Dís’ raised her brow at his reaction. Shaking her head, she started using the end of her cloak to clean up his mess. “From what I understand, they were charged with kidnapping and theft. A rival of theirs brought the charge up when he found out that his daughter had married Master William without his permission.”

“O’ course it had t’ be a rival,” he muttered, helping her clean up. “How’re Baylee an’ Adela through all this?”

“Adela seems to be handling it well, though Baylee…” She shook her head. “While I was there, I hardly saw her. The most I’ve seen her was this morning during breakfast.”

His brows furrowed. “What do yeh mean?”

Sighing, she leaned back on her heels. “The only way to get her family out of jail is for her to either marry this rival or give him Thúnor’s Horn.”

Pausing in his movements, Dwalin closed his eye. Like Dís, he knew of the horn and how it once belonged to the ancient king. “…She’s goin’ after the horn, ain’t she?”

Dís nodded. “And I shall be going with her.”

He frowned. “What?”

“I know the area well,” she explained, “and she most certainly cannot travel alone. Bofur can no longer go with her, since he’s injured himself, and there are no others willing to take up the task.”

Rubbing his forehead, he let out a sigh. “I could go with her,” he told her. “I’m a strong fighter an’-”

“-And you’ve only one good eye.” She gave him a small smile. “We’re both no longer the young dwarrows we once were, but Dwalin, we both know I’m just as capable as you.”

Again, he sighed. “Dís, yer the last o’ yer line,” he quietly told her. “I just don’t want yeh t’ get yerself hurt out there.”

“I understand,” she assured him, “but as I said, I’m just as capable as you –more so now that you’ve only one eye. We will be fine.”

He still wore the frown. “It’s dangerous where yer goin’.”

“I didn’t tell you where we were going,” she chuckled.

“Well, yeh said yeh know the area well. That means either Ered Luin or Lond Daer an’ I’m damned sure Thúnor didn’t live in the mountains.” He looked at her and fell silent for a long moment as she dabbed at the tea-soaked cushion, doing her best to get the cloak to absorb most of the liquid. Finally he stood up and looked away. “How do I know that yer really goin’ t’ be alright? Yeh’ve been through a lot o’ shit in yer life, Dís, an’ I just want t’ make sure that yeh aren’t trying t’ purposefully get yerself killed so yeh can be with yer family again.”

Dís cocked her brow as she glanced at him. “You really believe I would do such a thing?” she questioned softly.

“I don’t know, Dís –I honestly don’t know. There are dwarrows out there who’ve been through less than yeh have an’ they went an’ got themselves killed just so they could be with their families again, even if they still had loved ones who were alive an’ well. An’ now that yer here, where yer brother an’ sons are buried…” He gave her a pitying look as she turned her gaze towards the floor in an almost guilty fashion. Reaching over, he set his hand on her shoulder. “Honestly? I wouldn’t put it past yeh. But at the same time, I know that yeh know yer loved an’ wanted here.”

A small, sorrowful smile graced her lips. “Everyone always did say that Kíli got his recklessness from me,” she softly told him, “but no, you’re right. I know I am still loved and wanted, which is why this isn’t a death crusade.” Setting her hand atop his, she smiled again. “Anyway, if I were to perish, who would you have left to spar with? At least on an equal level.”

At that, Dwalin let out a hearty laugh. “Yer right ‘bout that one,” he agreed, grinning. “The others are alright sparring partners, but yeh grew up alongside me, so yeh know my fightin’ style best.”

She laughed as well. “I don’t believe shouting at your opponent while racing towards them with a large axe is a ‘style’, Dwalin,” she chuckled.

“Oh, it is too a fightin’ style,” he pouted. “It’s the style o’ makin’ yer enemy piss themselves in fear.”

Cracking up, Dís shook her head. “Is that so? Well then, it’s aptly named!”

“Isn’t it?” he chuckled. “Though, t’ get back on topic…when do yeh an’ Baylee plan t’ leave?”

“In a few days,” she answered, standing upright. “Which means I need to gather up a few traveling supplies and make sure that my axe is sharpened.”

“And that yeh’ve enough arrows,” he added with an approving nod. “Have yeh any cold-weather travelin’ clothes?”

She nodded, starting to walk towards the wash room. “Aye, I do. I once lived in Ered Luin, remember?” she smiled. “If anything, however, I’ll need to find myself a new blanket and tent.”

“Tent?” he repeated, brow rising slightly. “Yer goin’ t’ bother with one o’ those?”

“Of course I’m going to ‘bother with one of those’. It’s winter! Should it snow or rain, I would appreciate a bit of cover over our heads. We’re women, after all -not hardened, numbskull males!”

“I’ll have yeh know that my skull is not the least bit numb,” he mused.

She tossed her cloak into the washroom before closing the door. “That in itself is a surprise, considering how many scars you’ve got covering it,” she teased. “Or how many times I’ve seen you head-butt someone.” Lifting her skirts slightly, she started up the stairs, heading towards her room.

“Now, now…I’ve seen yeh crack skulls plenty o’ time in our lives,” he grinned, following after her. “Mostly Thorin’s an’ Thíli’s.”

She lightly shrugged. “How else could I figure out if Thíli would be a proper husband if he couldn’t stand up to a mere greeting?” she coyly asked. “I certainly couldn’t send Thorin or Frerin after him; they would have beaten him black and blue regardless.”

“As Thorin’s lil’ sister, I wouldn’t doubt it,” he chuckled. “Is there anythin’ yeh need help with or need me t’ fetch from the market for yeh?”

“No, thank-you. I believe I’ll be fine packing on my own,” she answered. “Though, you could sharpen my axe if you’d like. You were always able to get a razor edge. Whenever I sharpen it, it’s never to my liking.”

“Do yeh wet the stone?”

“Of course.”

“An’ do yeh do the fine hone on it afterwards?”

“I do my best.”

“Hm. Well, I’ll be happy t’ sharpen it for yeh, though I’m now curious ‘bout why it’s never sharp enough for yeh.” Chuckling, he waited outside her door as she went into her room to retrieve the weapon. “Will Baylee be takin’ a weapon?”

Returning with a double-handed axe in hand, she nodded. “Aye; she apparently ordered a new spear yesterday,” she replied. “In all honesty, I wouldn’t have thought her the type to know how to fight. I know you’ve mentioned in when you told me how you came by your injuries, but she’s so small and sweet for a human…”

“Ah, but she’s got a fiery spirit in her. Managed t’ deal a fair few hard blows t’ me when we were sparrin’ last year,” he chuckled. He suddenly frowned and thoughtfully scratched his beard. “Come t’ think o’ it…in a couple o’ weeks, it will have been nearly a year since I first met the lass.”

“Is that so?”

He nodded. “Time sure has flown since then…A lot has happened durin’ the year. Looks like it’s not goin’ t’ slow down again for a while, either.”

“When does life ever seem to slow down?” she chuckled.

“Now that’s a good question.”

 

* * *

 

 

Baylee let out a soft sigh, cherry-scented smoke furling from her mouth and nose. With her eyes closed and head resting against his chest, she couldn’t see the smile on Bofur’s face as he watched her. She took in another lungful of smoke before releasing it through her nose.

“You look like a dragon when ya do that,” he quietly teased, brushing a lock of hair from her face.

“Do I?” she smiled, tilting her head back to look at him.

“Aye, but a pretty dragon. Not at all scary like most o’ them.”

“Does that make me a baby dragon, then?” she chuckled, offering him a puff from the pipe.

Taking the pipe from her, he took in a breath of smoke. “Maybe an adolescent. You’re not quite small enough t’ be a hatchling.” He gave the bowl of the pipe a curious look as he slowly exhaled the smoke. “This is a good leaf…where were ya able t’ find it?”

“I’ve had some hoarded away for a while now,” she smiled. “It comes from Dorwinion, actually. They’ve good flavored tobaccos.”

“Hm. I’ve always gotten mine from the Shire. It’s a wee bit more…therapeutic than this stuff, but this is still quite nice.” He stole another quick puff before handing it back to her.

She quietly laughed. “I’d rather keep my senses ‘bout me,” she told him, kissing his chin. Resting her head atop his chest again, she let out a soft sigh. “Though, I think I’ll bring what’s left o’ my stash with me when I leave…”

“Just t’ help ya unwind after a long day o’ travelin’?”

Nodding, she shifted position so her arm wasn’t pinned beneath her. “An’ t’ remind me o’ home,” she added. “If this journey wasn’t so important, I’d stop by the Shire an’ ask for some tobacco for ya.”

“An’ get mistaken for a hobbit in the process,” he joked.

She pouted. “Hey now –I’m a good four inches taller than you! I’m sure I tower above a fully grown hobbit.” Peeking into her pipe, she found only ashes to be left and sighed, setting it aside for now.

“Hard sayin’. I’ve seen some tall hobbits in me lifetime.” He laughed as she gave him a small shove. “Oh, ya know I’m just joshin’ with ya, âzying.” Despite his words, he still wore a cheeky grin. “After all, you’re practically a giant when you’re in Erebor!”

“You are such an arse,” she giggled, kissing his nose. “But a lovable arse.”

“Well, that’s a relief. Wouldn’t want t’ be a hated arse,” he chuckled. “Though, I think your arse is a wee bit more loveable than me.”

Her cheeks turning red, she laughed again as she rolled her eyes. “Aren’t ya just the rascally one today?”

“When am I any other way?” he questioned. “I’m a rascal, born an’ bred. Just ask Bifur an’ Bombur!”

Turning herself so she was lying on her back, she looked up at the ceiling. “ _Normally_ ,” she began, “you’re a sweetheart. Don’t think I’ve seen ya in this much o’ a mischievous mood before. Not that it’s a bad thing; it’s quite amusin’, t’ be honest.”

“That’s good. Wouldn’t want t’ be puttin’ ya off by not bein’ amusin’.” Looking down at Baylee, he smiled and ran his fingers through her hair. “How’re ya feelin’?” he quietly asked.

She shrugged. “Better than I have been lately, but not as good as I normally am, if that makes any sort o’ sense.”

“It does –an’ it’s good t’ hear that you’re feelin’ better, âzying. Ya had us all pretty worried for a time. But it’s good t’ hear ya laugh again.” He gave her a tender smile and kissed the top of her head. “I just hope nothin’ else comes up t’ ruin the mood.”

“You an’ me both,” she sighed, closing her eyes. “Though, it is a big weight off o’ my shoulders t’ have Dís comin’ with me. I wouldn’t have figured her t’ be the sort willin’ t’ do such a thing.”

Plucking up a random lock of her hair, he started to braid it. “Dís is like that,” he told her, “unexpected, I mean. Most dwarrow dames are content t’ stay in their homes an’ take care o’ their families or tend t’ their trades, but Dís has always been different from them. She was raised the same way any dwarrow princess would have been raised, but from what I hear, she was always runnin’ off with Dwalin an’ her brothers an’ gettin’ into some sort o’ trouble.

“But, that’s Dís for ya. She’s got a mischievous streak as big as any dwarrow –but she’s got an even bigger kindness streak. She would go out o’ her way t’ help people just because she knew there were folk out there who needed it more than others.” Finishing the braid, he plucked up another bit of hair and started to braid it. “When our parents passed on an’ it was Bifur havin’ t’ help take care o’ me an’ Bombur, Dís would bring us warm dinners an’, when I became an apprentice toymaker, she made sure t’ buy the toys I made. Wouldn’t accept me just given them t’ her wee lads.”

Rolling onto her stomach, Baylee couldn’t help but giggle as she watched Bofur pout; the action prevented him from finishing the braid. “That was nice o’ her,” she told him. “It’s not often ya hear about royalty doin’ such things. Then again, the only royal person I know –well, besides Dís now, o’ course- is Bard an’ he came from humble beginnings. In the stories papa an’ mum used t’ read t’ me an’ Will, the kings and queens were usually cruel…’Specially the queens, for some reason.”

“Were the stories ‘bout humans?”

She nodded. “Aye, they were. Why?”

“No offense, âzying, but it seems like human males don’t know how t’ treat human females most o’ the time. A lot o’ them seem t’ think that women are incapable o’ survivin’ on their own when it’s just not true.”

Chuckling, she moved to rest her chin on his chest. “It is true an’ my father wholly admits it. That’s why he made sure t’ let Will ‘n me know that we were just as capable o’ doin’ everythin’ as the other. Though, Will’s hopeless in the kitchen. He can barely fry an egg.” Tucking some hair behind her ear, she scooted forward a little and kissed his chin. “But I’m pretty hopeless when it comes t’ carvin’ wood, so we’re even there.”

“Oh, I think with a bit o’ practice, you’d be good at it,” he told her. “You’ve got the steady hands.”

Shaking her head, she started to trace the patterns on his vest. “Steady hands, aye, but I’m no good with that sort o’ thing. I can barely sew, let alone carve wood. I’ll stick t’ baking and cookin’.”

“If ya insist,” he smiled. “Speakin’ o’ food, though, isn’t it about dinner time?” As he spoke, his stomach made a loud noise, making Baylee’s face screw up in disgust and slight fear. “Oh c’mon, it wasn’t _that_ loud!”

“You’re not the one three inches from your belly!” she snorted, poking his stomach. “Almost sounded like there was a troll livin’ in there!”

Grinning, he scooped her up in his arms and earned a squeak of surprise from her. “No troll, but I’ve got the appetite o’ one. Looks like the only thing I have t’ eat though is this pretty wee human!” He started to cover her face and neck in kisses while teasingly growling at her. Baylee shrieked with laughter, trying to squirm out of his embrace.

“You prat!” she laughed. “You’re ticklin’ me!”

“No, I’m eatin’ ya –there’s a difference,” he told her with such seriousness, it made her burst out laughing anew. Just as he was about to plant a kiss on her lips, however, Baylee took him by surprise by suddenly ‘biting’ his nose. “Oi! I’m not supposed t’ be the one for dinner!”

Baylee wore a large, cheeky grin, her teeth still resting on his nose. “You’re ‘ot the ownee wuh ‘ose ‘unbree,” she giggled.

“I guess not.” A mischievous look came to his features, slightly worrying Baylee. Her eyes shot open and she pulled back, laughing, as he started to tickle her sides. “Apparently you’re not _that_ hungry,” he teased.

“Is that what’s goin’ on? I’ve been tryin’ t’ figure it out for the last t’ree minutes.”

Both Baylee and Bofur went rigid. The color rising to their faces, they looked at the doorway, where Wenna was standing, a large platter of food resting against her cocked hip. She looked both disturbed and amused by the pair and simply shook her head as she laughed.

“We were just teasin’,” Baylee stammered, unable to meet the younger woman’s gaze.

Walking into the room, she raised her brow. “Clearly; I don’t think Bofur’s got a taste for human meat, anyway.” She set the tray down on the bed beside Bofur before starting to hand them their separate meals. “I knocked, by the way, but I guess neither o’ ya heard me. I’m just glad tha’ you’re both fully clothed.”

If it had been possible, Bofur’s cheeks would have gotten darker. “Now why would ya go an’ think somethin’ like that, lass? We’re not even married!” he mumbled.

“Mhm…See, unlike the older folks ‘round here, I know what younger, unwed couples do when left alone,” she mused. She then shrugged. “It’s none o’ my business, o’ course, but I’m not as naïve as ‘em –though, thank Manwë the two o’ ya are fully clothed.”

“An’ what if we hadn’t, hmm?” Baylee sat up and crossed her legs before taking the bowl of stew from her. She ignored Bofur as he gawked incredulously at her.

Wenna, however, shrugged. “More ‘n likely would have just left the food outside your door an’ then take me eyes out with a spoon,” she joked. “In all honesty, I’d just leave the food outside the door an’ then knock loudly t’ make the two o’ ya feel awkward an’ embarrassed.”

“Now that is quite evil o’ ya,” Bofur chortled, tucking a napkin into the top of his shirt. “I’ve done that t’ Bombur, but it was entirely an accident…an’ I ended up walkin’ in on them.”

Both Baylee and Wenna cringed at the thought before bursting into fits of giggles.


	37. Er...the End, I guess...

Ugh. I'm sorry, guys and gals; I could have sworn I posted this a long time ago. Turns out, I only posted it on ff.net. Blame it on how crazy life has been for me.

I need to apologize to you all who have been faithfully waiting for an update for this story, because I'm afraid I won't be continuing Finding Their Place.

The last few years have been really hard for my family in many ways and, well, I've been doing my best to be the rock that keeps things somewhat stable. Starting around mid-April of 2014, though, things started to come to a head. My mother, who's always had health troubles, began having some stress-related illnesses and we found out my father needed eye surgery.

About June-July, things seemed to start getting better after my dad's surgery, but then my mom was hospitalized overnight due to a hardcore panic attack and panic-attack-induced asthma attack (try saying that ten times fast!) and I was left having to take care of her since dad works twelve hour days. And that was on top of already having to take care of three dogs, clean the house, and make dinner. Thankfully, she improved and has since been working with our doctor to get her the right anti-anxiety meds.

Around the beginning of August, though, I started noticing that something was up with me. At first, I just shrugged it off, thinking it was just stress from all the insanity going on around me. By September, however, I knew something was wrong because I was suffering from insomnia and I was constantly breaking down into crying fits. So, it was my turn to go to the doctor's office and lo! and behold, turns out I have moderate-to-severe depression. I'm now on anti-depressants and I'm doing much better, but things are still…well, they're not the best, but they're better than they were.

But there's absolutely no Hobbit-related inspiration left in me. Due to a combination of things, I've found myself somewhat forced out of the movie-fandom. I'm still utterly in love with the book and Tolkien's other writings and the movies (save for BOFA –I have yet to see it), don't get me wrong, but…I don't really know how to describe it, to be honest. I just feel like I don't belong in it? Yeah. That's about right. So, yeah, the inspiration to continue has just kind of left and I know it won't return any time soon.

Secondly, I need to apologize for how long it took me to get this apology written up. I should have done this quite a while ago when I first realized I wouldn't be able to continue Finding Their Place, but things just got…well, as you read, they got a little crazy. Although, I will hopefully earn some forgiveness from you all, because I'm going to give you a summary of what would have happened if I had continued on.

So, this is what would have happened:

Baylee and Dís were going to go off to Lond Daer, taking that route through Rohan. Along the way, I had planned on them meeting up with some of Baylee's maternal relatives and getting some horses. From there, they head west. They were going to run into trouble near the right area only to be rescued by a group of rangers. After being questioned by the rangers and found to be innocent of any crimes, they would have found out that the leader and second-in-command of the group were Baylee's paternal grandparents (remember, she's half Dúnedain thanks to Warren).

Meanwhile, Mannus is trying his damnedest to get the Tankard for himself. Bard, Bofur, and the Ladies of the Inn (aka Wenna, Adela, and Galiene) are also doing their damnedest to prevent that from happening. It doesn't help that Mannus and some of his cronies started spreading rumors about the owners and whatnot…Will and Warren, though, are left unable to help since they're in jail. Poor them. But Bofur does come to visit them both and asks for permission to marry Baylee. The two of them heartily agree to that.

Her grandparents help her and Dís locate the Horn and take the two of them to Hobbit, where they meet up with Bilbo and spend the rest of late winter-early spring with him, due to them needing the mountain passes to not be so blizzard-y.

Oh, and did I forget to mention that, during this, Baylee's been unknowingly pregnant? Because she is, at least until Bag End. She gives birth to a set of twins, a boy and a girl who don't get names until they return to Dale. Using the excuse that any child, let alone two children, of Bofur's are going to be a handful and a half, Bilbo joins them on their journey back to Dale. After all, it's the polite thing to do and he is a gentlehobbit.

So they get back to Dale and the very first thing Baylee does is march straight into Bard's throne room and demand an audience with both him and Mannus before the elder assembly folks. Mannus comes, tries to say that the horn she brought isn't the real Horn and is all like 'Prove it'. So, she and Bard drink from it. Nothin' happens. Mannus drinks from it.

Ends up barfing. Also ends up getting pretty sick.

So, with the Horn being proven as real, Mannus is forced to drop the charges. But he also wants nothing to do with the Horn now, since it proved him to be an ass, so he 'kindly' gifts it to the king. Will and Warren are released from jail, everyone meets back up at the inn, and are promptly surprised by Bilbo and the babies. Not just Baylee's babies, mind you, but Lovisa and Bofur's child as well. I…can't remember the name I had picked out for her, sadly.

Needless to say, Will and Warren go a wee bit overprotective and give Bofur the sort of look that would make normal males piss themselves in fear. Bofur, however, promptly proposes to Baylee. He had planned to do such a thing all along, but…well. Y'know.

When things calm down a bit and get back to semi-normal, Bofur suggests they name the girl Éolynna after Baylee's mom. She agrees to that, but that still leaves the boy without a name. Jokingly, he then suggests Éofur, since it has the 'ofur' of his name, but the 'É' of her mother's name and Baylee likes it. Thus, Éolynna and Éofur finally get their names and the story would have come to a close.

Some final notes you may enjoy: Baylee and Bofur end up having a grand total of six kids: Éolynna and Éofur, Lazuli (female), Dâfur (male), Khalîd (male), and Poppy (female) with Poppy being a completely unplanned accident who's a good 10-15 years younger than Khalîd.

Bifur and Lovisa end up with two children: Their daughter and a son. I'm still trying my best to remember what I had named them, but I'm drawing a blank…

I really appreciate everyone who reads this story, no matter what. It started out as a silly little thing I started on a whim and turned into something greater as time wore on. I honestly do wish I had the drive to continue writing it (even iTunes seems to agree; it's played nothing but Tolkien music since I created this document over two hours ago, and it's on shuffle…), but…well, crap happens :(

I will continue to write, however! It's just a matter of getting my inspiration back. I'm slowly getting back into the artistic groove; I've been drawing more lately. I don't know if I'll do anymore fanfiction (outside of the Legend of Zelda one I've been tweaking the plot of for like…five years…), but I do have a lot of ideas for original novels. On the off chance that any of you want to keep up with that sort of thing, you can find me over on tumblr as mythologicalmoose and renovek (general blog and art blog, respectively). I'm also on deviantart as renovek and quidditch-wench (original and fanart accounts, respectively).

With all that typed out and the time now reaching 1:30am, I bring this apology 'chapter', and this story, to a close. Again, I'm sorry I can't finish this story for you all, but I really hope that little summary of what was going to happen helped bring some sort of closure to you all. I know it's not the proper ending many of you were hoping for after all this time, but it's the best I can do and I hope it's enough.

I can't thank you all enough for reading and for understanding. For nearly two years, all you readers stuck with me through fun times and through bad times, both fictional and real.

In the words of a beloved dwarrow, "I wish you all the luck in the world."


End file.
